


Branches of the Same Tree

by Pippinpaddleopsicopolis (Barnable)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, and pairings are in the titles, because i need to organize them better, currently tagging pairings that show up 3+ times, for easier browsing, if i tried to tag correctly this would get ungodly long, so tags are at the start of each chapter, system may change later, this is literally just all my atla ficlets & drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 70
Words: 59,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barnable/pseuds/Pippinpaddleopsicopolis
Summary: A collection of drabbles and ficlets from my tumblr@tikmasjiensbecause I can't keep track of them all anymore and I'm sure you can't either.
Relationships: Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Sokka & The Gaang (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Sokka
Comments: 104
Kudos: 76





	1. More Than He Could Ever Know - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, insecurity, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** i feel like zuko teases sokka a lot like “sorry i didnt hear that, did you finally get some bending powers?” as a joke when sokka’s lecturing him and sometimes when he’s overwhelmed, sokka will get really frustrated over it and then zuko scrambles to apologize and gives comfort cuddle [via [@i-cant-decide-blog](https://i-cant-decide-blog.tumblr.com/post/625936751639314433/i-feel-like-zuko-teases-sokka-a-lot-like-sorry-i)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,107

“…so, I think the changes we need to make here are going to be threefold. See, we have to put in _some_ regulations, or you’re just going to have the same thing happen again. But we can’t do what you would assume is the simplest option, because people are stubborn, and if we go your route, they’ll riot. No offense, obviously, it was a good start, we just have to…”

Zuko loved listening to Sokka babble. He really did. His boyfriend was so passionate in his lectures, and it was simply mesmerizing to watch him go on about the things that mattered to him. From the way his tone went up and down with such precision, to the awkward hand gestures he made as he talked, it was a spectacle Zuko could have stared at for hours.

But sometimes, admittedly, the words themselves did start to drag. Not because of anything to do with Sokka, it was just that all Zuko ever did was work and at times, all he wanted was a break; _especially_ when Sokka started to lecture him for his poor decisions. It was at times like that when Zuko would always try to lighten the mood with a fun joke, and unfortunately, he chose the wrong line to use that day.

“…did you hear me? Zuko?”

“What?” He blinked back to reality, finally processing Sokka’s words and not just the stupidly adorable way he paced around as he spoke. “Uh, no, sorry. I’ve been thinking recently, and I decided that from now on, I’m only listening to benders. So, unless you developed some new powers recently, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d used that line. Well, it was the first time he used that _exact_ line, but far from the first time he made the joke. It didn’t mean anything. It was just friendly teasing, joking around with the boy he cared about most in the world. Sokka did it to him too, by calling him “Jerk Lord” and stuff, but he didn’t smile that day. He didn’t turn around and shoot back something equally as ridiculous to get back at Zuko. He just stood there.

Sokka’s entire posture dropped as he stopped pacing, his grip tightening around the scroll in his hands. His normally bright blue eyes blinked repeatedly as his gaze turned to the ground, looking away from Zuko for what must’ve been the first time in an hour. It took about two seconds for Zuko to know he’d made a big mistake, but it wasn’t until Sokka took a step back and opened his mouth when he realized what it was.

“Can you just— can you not do that right now?” he requested; his tone mostly irritated but tinged with sadness. As he went on, he gestured again with his hands, his gaze following his own fingers instead of meeting Zuko’s. “I know you’re joking, and it’s fine, but it’s been a long fucking day and having you even pretending to confirm all my fears is just— I can’t— I can’t handle it right now.”

“Wait, Sokka, I’m sorry. Shit.” Zuko leapt to his feet, barely catching up to Sokka before he walked out of the room. His hands were shaking slightly, his head tilted slightly toward the ground. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know it was— what fears? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal, I just don’t— sometimes I feel like I’m not— like I’m not good enough for you.” Sokka stumbled over his words as he spoke, and he only turned to look at his boyfriend when Zuko gently nudged his chin with two fingers. “It’s like, you’re, you know, the fucking Fire Lord and one of the greatest benders in the world and I’m just… Sokka. I’m not special or a bender or anything, I’m just some guy. And if the council has taught me anything with all their suggestions for you to be with a ‘nice noble woman’, it’s that ‘some guy’ will— he’ll never be enough for you.”

Rather than trying to find words right away, Zuko threw his hands around Sokka’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Sokka’s response was a bit delayed, but eventually, he slid his own fingers up Zuko’s back, his fingers twisting around the back of the Fire Lord’s shirt as he pressed his forehead against his boyfriend’s strong shoulder. Zuko held him close, taking a moment to let Sokka relax and get through the worst of his trembling before he said a word.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, raising one hand to drag his fingers through Sokka’s soft hair. “You’re not just ‘some guy’, Sokka, you’re _the_ guy. I can’t believe you could ever think you’re not enough for me when you are _all_ I could ever need. You’re smart and funny and handsome and I know you think you’re not enough, but I love you so, _so_ damn much and I don’t ever want you to feel like that again. I’m sorry, Sokka. I’m so unbelievably sorry I made you feel like that.”

“You didn’t. It’s not you. It’s just something I’ve been dealing with since, like, forever, I guess. You know, I’m surrounded by all these incredible benders and leaders and _people_ and I’m just regular. I’m just— I _am_ that guy. I’m just a regular guy. I’m—”

“No, you’re not. You might not be a bender but you’re a fucking _genius_. Sure, you struggle with a few things, but everyone does. And you can’t bend, but you know what? I can’t understand _half_ the technical stuff you tell me about. I just nod along and leave it up to you because if I get anywhere near those warship plans, people are falling to their doom.”

Finally, Zuko heard Sokka chuckle through his tears, and he squeezed him a little tighter. He took a deep breath with his boyfriend as he gently stroked the back of his head, to which Sokka’s fingers dug deeper into his back. To a normal person, the pressure might’ve been too much, but not to Zuko. He craved the touch, the warmth, the _affection_ after so many years of being all but alone.

“I love you.” Sokka’s voice cracked as he spoke, but the words were clear, even muffled through Zuko’s sleeve.

“I love you too, Sokka.” Zuko turned to press a kiss to Sokka’s temple, finally lowering his other arm to wrap around his boyfriend’s shoulders, holding him as close as he could. “More than you could ever know.”


	2. Raindrops - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, angst
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“I’m not good enough.”

His words fell flat, the pouring rain mixing with the drops on his face.

“It’s okay.”

Zuko reached out to take his arm, to bring him inside, but Sokka pulled away.

“I couldn’t do it.”

He dragged a soaking wet strand of hair behind his ear, his gaze drifting down to his shoes.

“That doesn’t make you weak.”

Sokka only sniffed and shook his head.

“Yes, it does.”

Hours of not knowing where his boyfriend was caught up to him.

“Please come inside.”

Too long passed before Sokka met his eyes, finally accepting his hand.

“Okay.”


	3. Listen, Beautiful - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, insecurity, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** zuko is shy and kinda insecure about his scar and sokka tries to comfort him and tell how beautiful he is and how much he loves him [via [@aleluvstheboys](https://aleluvstheboys.tumblr.com/post/626270433619181568/ok-but-like-a-zukka-fanfic-where-zuko-is-shy-and)]
> 
>  **word count:** 872

“Hey, babe, are you ready to go?”

The silence could have come as a warning that something was wrong right off the bat, but Sokka was too focused on his hair to immediately consider the possibility. Instead, he just finished with the last of his little braids, calling out to Zuko again when he realized his boyfriend never answered.

Somewhat expecting to find Zuko changing for the eighth time that morning, Sokka dropped his comb and turned back to Zuko’s bedroom; knocking on the door when he reached it. This time, there was no way Zuko was too distracted to hear him. Sokka tried knocking one more time before he pushed open the door, his concern growing tenfold when he realized what he’d guessed was wrong.

Rather than trying on yet another jacket, Zuko was curled up on the other side of his bed. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his long dark hair unkept and spilling over his shoulders. Though Sokka was in no way quiet on his approach, Zuko failed to look up when he came over, just sniffing and staring down at his bare feet.

“Hey.” Sokka draped an arm around his shoulders as he sat down, pulling his shaking boyfriend into an embrace. Still, Zuko did not speak, just leaning into Sokka’s chest as another tear escaped his good eye. “Zuko, sweetheart, what happened?”

“I can’t do it.” His words were quiet, and Sokka almost had to strain his ears to hear them. Zuko sniffed again, the fingers on his left hand reaching to grip Sokka’s bicep. “I can’t— I can’t go with you.”

The explanation wasn’t that much of a surprise, but Sokka still felt a pang of disappointment when he heard it. He knew Zuko was nervous to meet his family, given how much he struggled in general with social situations, but he didn’t think he would back out. Sokka was looking forward to introducing him to his dad and Bato and Gran Gran and the idea that it might not happen was saddening.

“Why not? I mean, it’s okay if you can’t do it today, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind rescheduling. But why—?”

“No, I can’t do it _ever_.” Zuko’s voice cracked on the last word, and he clung to Sokka’s arm a little tighter. “They’ll take one look at me and they’ll just— they’ll just _know_ I’m not good enough for you. You’re so beautiful and funny and nice and I’m just— I’m _ugly_. I’m shy and I’m awkward and the only place my face would ever fit in is at a horror convention.”

Sokka’s heart dropped. It wasn’t the first time Zuko expressed a distaste for the burn scar across his left eye, but it was the first time he’d described it as _ugly_. Before, he just complained that children thought it was weird, or that strangers thought it was okay to ask him about it when he had no interest in telling the story, but this? This was a whole new level and it hurt.

“Okay, listen to me. Zuko.” Gently, Sokka used a finger to lift his boyfriend’s chin, giving him a reassuring look when he met his deep amber gaze; carefully brushing away the tears on his cheeks. “For one thing, I happen to love just how shy and awkward you are. I know you get self-conscious about it, but I think you’re adorable and charming and a little bit of social anxiety could never make anyone like you less.

“For another, you are not ugly. You are the absolute furthest thing from ugly. You are, and I mean this with my whole-ass heart, the most beautiful person I have ever met. I know that people can sometimes be weird about your scar, but it doesn’t matter. Scar or no scar, you have such a pretty face. Your eyes and your smile and those little freckles on your cheeks—there is not one thing I would change about you, Zuko. Not one.”

“But I _scare_ people.”

“And then you open your mouth and they realize that you’re the sweetest person on the planet.” He reached his hands up and dragged his fingers along either side of Zuko’s face, his fingers gently stroking his long, soft hair. “Zuko, I promise you; my family does not care what you look like. At all. You’re gorgeous and caring and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks because I love you _so much_. Just take a deep breath, okay? It’s okay. I love you.”

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the edge of Zuko’s scar, before lowering his hands back around his shoulders, and pulling him into a tight embrace. Zuko didn’t say anything immediately, just clinging to Sokka and twisting the back of his shirt with his palms as he let out a deep, trembling breath. Another tear slipped down his cheek, and Sokka resisted the urge to push it away. He needed the chance to let his emotions out.

“I love you too,” said Zuko finally, the smallest hint of happiness and peace laced in his still shaking words as he snuggled in a little closer; letting his boyfriend know that somehow, everything would be okay.


	4. Infatuation - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** book 3: fire, western air temple, unrequited love, angst
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 552

“Mind if I sit?”

Zuko shook his head, staying silent when Sokka sat down at his side. He hadn’t realized anyone else was awake, but after all the excitement the last couple days, it only made sense he wouldn’t be the only one unable to sleep.

“Can’t sleep?” In response, Zuko only shrugged, to which Sokka sighed. “Hey, I wanted to say thank you. For coming with me and helping me bust out my dad and Suki and Chit Sang, I guess. I admit, I was pretty wary of you at first, but Toph was right. You’ve changed a lot.”

He has changed a lot. When he first arrived, Zuko didn’t even know everyone’s names and he was so horribly awkward it took him a week until he had his first real conversation. Well, his first conversation which wasn’t an argument. He couldn’t remember much of what it was about, just that Sokka was there and his eyes lit up when he spoke of the things which mattered to him most.

“You know, I wouldn’t have expected it,” Sokka went on, taking Zuko’s silence as an invitation to keep babbling, “but we make a really good team. Not just in strategy, but when we were fighting Azula at the end there, I felt stronger than I have in a long time.”

So did Zuko. Sokka had protected his weak side and whether he’d done it consciously or not, it was the first thing to solidify the thoughts he didn’t know he was having. The thoughts that only amplified when he’d grabbed Sokka’s hand and held onto him for nearly half a minute. The thoughts that hurt when he watched Sokka smile and hug _Suki_ the whole way home.

“Anyway, I just know I’ve been kind of a jerk to you because of the whole trying to capture us thing, but I wanted to make sure you know that I’m leaving that all behind us. You really are a pretty great guy, and things might have gotten off to a rough start, but I really think we could—”

His lips tasted like tea and sleep and the overwhelming sense of confusion. When Zuko’s fingers first grazed his cheek, he’d frozen, but suddenly, Sokka’s hands were pulling him closer and they were engaged in the most passionate moment of his life. Zuko wanted to stay there forever, held in Sokka’s arms, and playing with the ends of his hair but he couldn’t. Before he knew what was happening, Sokka was already standing and looking down at him with wide eyes.

“I— I’m going to— I don’t want Suki to wake up and not know where I— I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Sokka wasn’t gone for ten seconds before Zuko flopped back onto the stones and threw his hands over his face. It was his first real friendship with someone his age and it was gone because he couldn’t keep his stupid hands to himself. He couldn’t control his feelings even though he _knew_ Sokka had a girlfriend and he _knew_ she was way better for him than Zuko could ever be.

He sniffed and ran his fingers over his eyes. It hurt, but it wasn’t as if it were the first time, and he knew in his heart it wouldn’t be the last.


	5. Another Glass of Wine - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, drunken confessions, angst
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 623

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Sokka shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen, but that Zuko was beyond wasted and it wasn’t fair to let him spill all his secrets when he had little to no filter at all. Not that the rejection seemed to stop him, as he leaned in closer to stupidly sober Sokka.

“I think you’re cute.” He left his right arm around Sokka’s shoulders, supporting himself in his tipsy state, but used the other to reach over and boop his friend’s nose. Sokka made a face. “I think you’re cute and you’re sweet and you’re funny and sometimes, when you smile, I really, really want to kiss you.”

His face flushed, his entire body going warm as he pulled Zuko closer to himself when he stumbled over a crack. There were a lot of things that could have come out of his friend’s mouth, but that was the last he expected to hear. Sokka took a deep breath, inhaling the cold night air as he stopped at the crosswalk; Zuko leaning into his side.

“You have a girlfriend,” said Sokka quietly, his grip tightening around Zuko’s waist when his eyes began to close.

“I don’t like her.” He rested his head against Sokka’s shoulder as they crossed the streets towards his apartment, his words slurring further as his feet dragged across the asphalt. “She’s my best friend, but I don’t like— I don’t like girls. I don’t like girls like— like I like you.”

Zuko slid his left index finger over to poke Sokka’s chest, letting out a soft giggle as his head drooped towards the sidewalk. Though his mind told him he needed to move away, Sokka’s gut told him to get closer, so he wrapped his arm around Zuko’s, worried that he might tip right over.

“That’s really sweet, but you gotta stop talking, okay? You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He felt dirty. Tainted with secrets he wasn’t supposed to know. It was one thing for Zuko to call Sokka cute, it was another for him to out himself after drinking far more alcohol than he ever should’ve consumed. Thankfully, he stayed quiet as they walked up the steps to his apartment, not saying a word when Sokka guided him through the door and over to his couch.

Sokka sat down at his side, his hand moving from Zuko’s waist to his hip when the drunken boy flopped onto his lap; his amber eyes closing within seconds. For a moment, it seemed as if he were asleep, caught between his exhaustion and the gentle strokes of Sokka’s fingers in his hair, but then he shifted and looked up with a broken expression.

“Please don’t hate me,” he whispered.

“I don’t hate you.” Hoping it would somehow help, Sokka continued to run his fingers through Zuko’s soft hair, gently stroking the side of his cheek. “I just can’t have this conversation while you’re shitfaced.”

“Okay.” Zuko only nodded against Sokka’s knee, his eyes brimming with shining tears. “Can I have another glass of wine?”

“No, I think you’ve had enough of that for tonight.”

“Are you sure you don’t hate me?”

“Yeah.” He dragged his thumb over the edge of Zuko’s cheekbone, brushing away the one drunken tear that managed to get past his lashes. There were a thousand things he could’ve said next, a thousand ways he could’ve expressed just _how much_ he didn’t hate Zuko, but he said none of them. He couldn’t. So instead, he just squeezed his friend’s hand and said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

There was no chance Zuko would remember the kiss Sokka pressed to his temple, but it made them both feel better in the moment.


	6. It's Okay, Snowflake - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 670

It must’ve been the fifteenth time Sokka scribbled out those words.

He was frustrated. He was so, _so_ frustrated but he couldn’t stop. There was too much that needed to get done, too many problems that needed fixing, and he was the only one who could do it. Except he wasn’t. He’d been pouring over those documents for _hours_ at that point and he still couldn’t get it to read right.

Instead of giving up, Sokka sniffed and pushed away the tear that threatened to fall from his eye, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper. It was fine. He was just overreacting again. Anyone else could’ve finished the work already, he just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough and he had to step up his game so he could be. He ignored the sound of the door opening behind him, quietly clearing his throat when it shut.

“Hey.” Zuko’s tone was too friendly. It was meant for someone who gave more than Sokka ever could. He didn’t turn around, dipping his ink back into the paper. “Everything all right? You didn’t come to lunch. Sokka?”

Though he wanted to hide his face, Sokka couldn’t turn away faster than Zuko walked over. Before he knew it, his boyfriend’s finger was on his chin, lifting it gently and catching the warm tear that slid across his jaw. Rather than speaking again, he knelt down and slid his arms around Sokka’s stomach, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He felt stupid. Everyone was depending on him to get his work done, and he couldn’t do it. All his friends were doing amazing things around the world, all the other people in the palace and back at the tribe were doing more than enough work, and he was crying into his boyfriend’s shoulder because he couldn’t finish one little plan.

“Are you okay?” asked Zuko softly, his hands only tightening their grip around Sokka’s waist.

“Yeah.” Sokka nodded, cringing at how much his own voice cracked. He nuzzled deeper into Zuko’s robes, his fingers clinging to the back of his robes. “Just frustrated.”

Zuko said nothing, just holding Sokka in his arms. Though Sokka was sure Zuko had gone silent because he was so disappointed in his boyfriend’s pathetic meltdown, it was also nice. It gave him a chance to catch his breath, comforted by the warm arms around him. He bit down on his thumbnail when Zuko pulled away, his hands moving to stroke either side of Sokka’s head.

“Hey, look at me.” He used his thumb to brush away another tear, gently nudging Sokka to meet his gaze. Sokka only did so reluctantly, knowing his own eyes must’ve been embarrassingly bloodshot. “It’s okay. You just have to take a break, all right? You are doing such a good job but you’re working yourself too hard again.”

“No, I’m not working hard _enough_. I’ve been at it for hours but I’m not making progress. I’m just writing and erasing, and I haven’t finished _anything_. It’s—"

He snapped his mouth shut when Zuko suddenly shifted to press a kiss to the top of his forehead, his hands still caressing Sokka’s cheeks as his long hair spilled over both of their shoulders. Rather than pulling away, he rested his chin on his boyfriend’s head, his hands lowering around his back as Sokka moved his own, gripping onto Zuko’s chest as he learned in closer.

“I know you want to keep working, but _I_ really, really want a nap.” It was impossible to understand Zuko’s soft tone, but it was adorable and convincing as he slid his hands down to take Sokka’s, gently playing with his fingers. “Just take a break. Please. For me. I can’t sleep without my snowflake.”

Sokka hesitated when Zuko stood up, clinging to his hand as he nodded to the bed, slowly pulling Sokka up to his feet. “Okay.”

There weren’t a lot of cures for Sokka’s chronic frustration, but afternoon snuggles with his boyfriend helped every time.


	7. He Loves You (and You Love Him Too) - [Sokka/Zuko, Izumi & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, pre-relationship, light angst
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 814

“Daddy?”

Zuko hadn’t turned away from the window in what must’ve been several minutes, but he looked up to find his daughter standing in the doorway. He smiled and lifted her onto his lap when she ran over, his gaze drifting back to where it lay before. Izumi made a face as she followed his eyes.

“Why are you watching Uncle Sokka?” she asked, poking Zuko in the cheek. He loved her with his whole heart, but the one problem with children was that they don’t know when to stop. Izumi threw her arms around her dad’s shoulders, leaning against him as looked out the window with him. “Mommy said you love him.”

“Of course, I love him,” said Zuko, shifting his arm around her waist. “He’s my best friend.”

“Mommy told me you love him more than that. She said you love him like she loves Auntie Ty Lee. I think she’s right. You love him, right, Daddy?”

He hesitated, allowing his gaze to drift back to where Sokka lay in the courtyard; a book in his hand as he leaned back against a tree. More than anything, Zuko wanted to go down there and sit with him, not just to talk but to be at his side, but he couldn’t. Sokka wouldn’t want him there, and Zuko had too much work to finish anyway.

“Yeah,” he told her finally. “Yeah, I do love him.”

“Then why does he have to leave?” Again, Izumi had no regard for the fact that her poor dad didn’t want to answer the questions and returned to poking his cheek when he didn’t answer. “Why can’t he stay here with us like Auntie Ty Lee does?”

“Because Sokka has a really important job and he can’t do it from here.” The tribe. They needed him more than Zuko did. It didn’t matter if he _did_ love Sokka; he couldn’t take him away from them. Not even for a few days at a time. “Ty Lee can stay because her work is right here.”

“She protects you.”

“She does protect me.”

“Why can’t Uncle Sokka protect you?” Izumi tugged on his hair, leaning her little head onto his shoulder as she followed her dad’s gaze back out to the courtyard. Zuko didn’t mean to be distracted; Sokka just looked so beautiful in the light, he couldn’t look away. “I know his leg hurts sometimes but he’s really strong. He could keep you safe.”

“He could keep me safe.” He smiled sadly, nodding as he let out a breath. “But there’s a lot of other people he has to keep safe too, and it’s really important that he’s there for them. They need him more than I do.”

“Maybe, but I think you should tell Uncle Sokka that you love him. Then he would want to stay here with us, and we wouldn’t have to travel so far or wait so long to see him anymore and we could play together every day.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Zuko gave Izumi’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, sniffing when he finally tore his gaze from the window. “But he can’t stay. He has to go home. I wish he could visit more too but it’s better we only see him a couple times a year.”

“But he loves you too. He told me he does.”

His breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes drifted back to the courtyard. Zuko already knew. Of course he already knew, he’d have to be a fool to not see it. But he’d tried so hard to stop himself from seeing it, to stop himself from daydreaming about what could be, that it wasn’t until Izumi said the words that it really hit him.

“I know.” Zuko pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head when she clung to his sleeve, hugging him for reasons he couldn’t understand. “That’s why I can’t tell him.”

“Because he has to leave?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head. “Because he deserves a lot better than me.”

“Daddy?” Izumi shifted suddenly, poking his cheek again when she looked up into his eyes. “Are you sad?”

Maybe a little. Maybe just because it was hard to imagine Sokka leaving and not knowing when he might return. Not knowing when Zuko himself could ever find enough time to visit the Southern Water Tribe and see him again. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about him. And he knew that when he _did_ finally find the time to go see Sokka again, he’d be prouder than he’d ever been before.

“I’m sad that he has to leave tomorrow,” said Zuko softly, “but I’m just really, really glad he’s following his dreams.”

And, he thought, smiling as he watched Sokka pet a turtleduck that waddled up to his foot, maybe one day, he could follow his too.


	8. (A Little More Than) A Friendly Favor - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-episode: s03e13 the firebending masters, western air temple, crushes, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** what if.......after The Firebending Masters when aang and zuko get back.....zuko realizes he still has a bit of that tar still stuck in his hair, and he tries for like an hour to get it out and as he’s sitting alone mumbling angrily to himself contemplating just cutting it off when sokka finds him and helps him work the stuff out....and maybe sokka takes more time than what’s actually necessary....and maybe zuko is frozen in shock the entire time and mentally SCREAMING [via [@lesbian-yue](https://lesbian-yue.tumblr.com/post/628107221951299585/what-ifafter-the-firebending-masters-when)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,354

It wasn’t until the grumbling turned into irritated cursing that Sokka finally rose to his feet.

Honesty, he had no intention to talk to Zuko. He didn’t. But then the guy had to go and curse away his quiet time and that was enough to push him to his limit. Sokka didn’t stay up to lose sleep, he stayed up to plan, to strategize, and he couldn’t focus on a thing with all that stupid sound. So, against his gut instincts, he rose to his feet and walked right over to where Zuko was sitting on his own, dragging a comb through his hair.

“Hey, jerkbender.” Sokka sat down beside him, frowning when he realized that was all Zuko was doing. He barely looked up in response, too focused on his intense combing. “I was going to ask you to quiet down, but now I’m just curious why combing your hair is cause for so much swearing.”

“There’s tar stuck in it,” mumbled Zuko, letting out an irritated puff of air. “I’ve been trying to get it out for an hour now. At this point, I think it would be easier to just grab my swords and cut it off.”

“No, wait. I might be able to help you with that.”

Sokka didn’t wait for him to respond before he stood up, running off to grab what he needed. It was just a simple bucket of water and a couple things from Katara’s bag, but it would do the trick. Zuko was visibly confused when he returned, though he surrendered his comb without question. Sokka grinned when he took it from him, setting it down on his knee before he pushed the bucket of water in between them.

“Here, warm this up a little bit.” Again, Zuko seemed baffled by the request, only glancing down to the water, and failing to do as he was asked. “Oh, come on, you big jerk. You want that tar out or not?”

Of course, Zuko _did_ want the tar out, and that was enough to convince him. He sighed and pressed a hand to the water, gently warming it until it was steaming. Sokka grabbed one of the cloths he’d taken from Katara’s bag and dipped it in the bucket, ignoring the odd expressions on Zuko’s face when he started to squeeze it around his hair.

“What are you doing?” asked Zuko suddenly, his gaze turning to where Sokka’s hands pressed the towel against his hair. His voice was quiet when he spoke, though the others were too far away for any sound to wake them. “If you think just getting it wet is going to help, you should know that I already–”

“No, it’s not about getting it wet.” Sokka brushed the towel across Zuko’s hair one more time, before lowering it back into the bucket and reaching for the comb. Zuko shifted slightly when Sokka started to drag it through his hair, but he didn’t pull away. “I put a couple things in here that’ll help get the sticky stuff out. It loosens it up, so I can get the comb in there. Trust me, it sounds ridiculous, but it works every time.”

“‘Every time’? You haven’t…?”

Sokka chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, fish guts.”

“ _Fish guts_?” The look on Zuko’s face was so shocked, so goofy, that Sokka couldn’t believe they’d ever actually been scared of him. “How did you end up with fish guts in your hair?”

“You’re going to judge me when you have tar from a booby trap Aang _told_ you not to fall for?” He rolled his eyes jokingly, brushing a little more water through Zuko’s hair before he returned to the comb. For some reason, he’d always thought Zuko’s hair would be greasy, but it wasn’t. It was soft. “I’m from the Southern Water Tribe, Zuko. No fish, no eating. I’ve known how to gut them since I was four.”

“Wow. That’s… impressive.”

Clearly, Zuko had no idea how he was meant to respond to that, and Sokka wasn’t quite sure how to move on either. They ended up just sitting in silence for a few minutes; Zuko playing with his fingers and staring down at his knees while Sokka continued to comb his hair, slowly but surely working all the tar out of it. Just when Sokka was really getting used to the quiet moment, Zuko suddenly spoke again, his voice even quieter than before.

“Do you miss them?” he asked. “Your tribe, I mean.”

“I mean, my dad and Katara aren’t there, and I’d miss them more than anything else, but…” Sokka hesitated, dropping the comb onto the ground beside his knee and switching fully to his hands. For some reason, he thought it would be awkward to brush his fingers through Zuko’s hair, but it wasn’t. Something about it just felt _right_ , and it wasn’t the fact that his hair was stupidly nice to touch. “I do, yeah. So much. But I’m doing this for them, you know? So… yeah.”

Given that he was the one to ask the question, Sokka thought for sure Zuko would respond, and was a little surprised when he didn’t. He just sat there silently, his entire face turning bright pink as Sokka continued to drag his fingers through Zuko’s hair. He was fairly sure he’d gotten the last of the tar out, as he couldn’t feel anything under his fingertips anymore, but he wanted to be really sure.

He slid his hands through Zuko’s hair one more time, his fingers moving slowly and savoring every moment of the interaction. His heart fluttered for reasons he couldn’t explain, a strange feeling of emptiness in his stomach when he finally let his hands fall to his side. Sokka nearly reached for the comb, to do _one last_ run through Zuko’s hair, but stopped himself. He was done. He’d been done. There was no reason to drag it out any longer.

“Finished,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… try not to get any more tar in it, okay?”

“Yeah.” Zuko nodded, his light brown gaze drifting up and down Sokka’s face, scanning every inch of him in the moonlight. “Wouldn’t want to have to do this again.”

“No, definitely not.”

Except they were sitting so close together, their knees knocking and their fingers inching towards each other. Sokka didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t know how he’d gone from hating this guy to pitying him to feeling like he wanted to hold him in his arms, but it happened, and he did. Rather than stopping himself from doing what logically seemed wrong, he gave in to what his heart felt was right and let his fingers slip on top of Zuko’s.

Sokka started to lean in first but Zuko wasn’t far behind at all, his fingers reaching and gripping around Sokka’s gently, his gaze flickering down to them just before looking up to meet Sokka’s. His hands were soft and warm and again, Sokka’s mind was screaming at him that it wasn’t right, that he couldn’t _really_ trust Zuko, but he ignored it and listened to his gut. He let himself lean in, his fingers curling back around Zuko’s as they edged closer together. One moment, they were just fixing Zuko’s hair, and the next second—

—they were scrambling away from each other faster than the footsteps could approach.

In his rushed attempt to look casual, Sokka nearly knocked over the bucket between them, and Zuko made a face as he shifted against the wall. Though Sokka knew he should turn to respond to Aang, to explain why they were still awake, his gaze lingered on Zuko for another moment longer. Maybe it was just the moonlight, or the way his hair was so shiny from being brushed, but something about him looked different. Softer. Calmer. _Beautiful._ He didn’t know exactly what he was feeling. All he knew was that he felt a little sad nothing happened.

 _And,_ he thought, his longing gaze finally coming to an end, _it kind of looks like Zuko does too._


	9. Hey, Princess - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, drunk sokka, fluff & angst
> 
>  **prompt:** sokka calling zuko "princess" [via [@tikmasjiens](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/629176800447283201/sokka-calling-zuko-princess)]
> 
>  **word count:** 742

It was the smile that gave him away.

Sokka smiled a lot, he truly did, but there was something about that lopsided goofy grin that just _screamed_ ‘too many drinks’. Coupled with the fact that he swayed with each step, it wasn’t hard to figure out why he was late to get home, though Zuko immediately found his mind jumping to concern above anything else.

He didn’t move when Sokka flopped onto the couch on his lap, dramatically wrapping his arms around Zuko’s neck. For a split second, Zuko wanted to tell him to move away, to suggest they go grab some water or coffee before anything else, but he didn’t. Sokka’s cold fingers were already sliding down his face, tracing every inch of his jaw.

“Hey, princess,” he said softly, his eyes lighting up when they met Zuko’s.

“‘Princess’?” Zuko made a face, wrapping his arms around Sokka’s waist and pulling him in closer. He was liable to fall over at any second, and Zuko wasn’t in the mood for a trip to the emergency room. “You’re cute, but I’m not a princess, Sokka.”

“Are you sure?” Sokka slid his hand through Zuko’s hair, twisting the long, dark locks around his fingers before he went on. “But your hair is so soft and beautiful, and it looks like it’s straight out of a Disney movie. And your eyes are so pretty, and gold, and they get so shiny in the sunlight.”

“My eyes are brown, you absolute dork.”

“But they’re so _pretty_. You are so fucking cute, princess. Your gold eyes and your Rapunzel hair and your little nose, you’re just so cute. Oh, my god. I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend.”

Normally, Zuko would’ve responded right away, but he was slightly stunned from Sokka booping his nose and continuing to twirl his hair around his fingers. Though he was clearly out of his mind, Sokka’s touch was gentle and loving, each word he spoke sounding more genuine than the last.

Rather than trying to hold any sort of a coherent conversation, Zuko nudged Sokka to lie down with him. It took a few seconds for Sokka to finally stop playing with Zuko’s hair and get off his lap, but after he did, he laid down right on Zuko’s shoulder; wrapping an arm around his waist and planting several kisses on his collarbone.

“You okay, Sokka?” He gently slid his boyfriend away from his neck, not wanting anything to happen while Sokka couldn’t even form proper memories. “It’s not like you to do this.”

“I’m fine,” said Sokka quickly, reaching his right hand up to play with Zuko’s hair again. “It was just a really long day and I really— I really missed my princess.”

It was stupid how much he liked the nickname. “Okay. Just tell me if you want to talk later, all right?”

“The only thing I want to talk about is how unfair it is that you’re so beautiful. How am I ever supposed to get anything done when you’re right here? I can’t stop looking. You’re too pretty. You’re so, so pretty.”

“Thank you.” Zuko slid his arm around Sokka, pulling him in closer to his chest. Sleep. He needed sleep, even if it took a few minutes to coax him into it. “I don’t think it’s unfair though, because you’re really handsome too.”

He turned and pressed a kiss to the top of Sokka’s head, his grip tightening when Sokka’s own fingers squeezed his waist. Zuko leaned his head on top of his boyfriend’s when Sokka snuggled into him; one hand still playing with Zuko’s hair and the other clinging to his stomach. Neither of them moved for a long moment, until Sokka suddenly poked Zuko in the chest, sniffing before he spoke.

“I don’t care if you don’t think you’re a princess,” he said quietly, his fingers twisting around Zuko’s shirt. “You _are_ a princess because you’re my princess and I love you more than anything else in the world.”

Zuko smiled, his left hand reaching up to tickle the ends of his boyfriend’s hair toward the base of his neck. Sokka shifted beneath him, biting down on his lip, but didn’t say another word. Slowly, his breathing started to calm, his fingers ceasing their twirling through Zuko’s hair and loosening around his waist. He was asleep, but that didn’t stop Zuko from saying what he needed to.

“I love you too, my prince.”


	10. Kitchen Kisses - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** sokka calling zuko [princess] when he’s acting like a rich boy (even tho zuko doesn’t mean to he TRIES but he can’t HELP IT) [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/629547110515310592/i-saw-ur-post-about-sokka-calling-zuko)]
> 
>  **word count:** 541

“Wait, hold on, you want _me_ to cook?”

Sokka snorted, his hand not wavering as he held out the knife. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You want me to cook _this_?” Zuko gestured to the raw fish on the counter in front of them, his gaze shifting between the cutting board and his boyfriend. “Sorry, wait, let me rephrase that. You want me to _butcher_ this?”

“No. You don’t butcher fish, you fillet them. Have you never been in a kitchen before? This is like, cooking 101. Here, let me show you. Just put your hand on the fish, like— why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Put my hand on the fish’. You want _me_ to touch _that_. With its scales and its eyes and it’s awful raw fish smell.”

“Oh, my god.” Sokka groaned dramatically, dropping his knife onto the counter, and moving his hands onto Zuko’s hips. He spun him around quickly, raising his brows and letting out a sigh. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Zuko’s temple before whispering into his ear. “You are such a fucking princess.”

“Excuse me?” Though he tried to pull away, Zuko could only move back a few inches thanks to the counter, as well as Sokka’s grip around his waist. He ended up lifting his arms instead, draping them around Sokka’s neck. “What are you talking about? I am _not_ a princess.”

“Hey, I don’t mean anything rude by it, I’m just stating the facts. You drive a two hundred grand convertible, you barely understand the concept of debt, and you won’t touch a goddamn fish! I mean, come on, babe,it’s _dead_. It might be a little weird at first but it’s not like it’s going to bite you.”

The look on Zuko’s face seemed almost hurt, and for a split second, Sokka regretted making the jokes that he did. He really hadn’t meant any harm with the words, he just found it hilarious how much of a walking rich boy stereotype his boyfriend could be sometimes.

“You know I really try to learn what other people have to go through,” said Zuko quietly, his fingers twisting around the back of Sokka’s shirt. “If you feel like I’m ever being insensitive or anything, I won’t mind if you—”

“No, Zuko, it’s fine, I was joking.” He slid forward to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “You do such a good job asking about my family and everything, but… yeah, you’re still pretty much a princess. I’m sorry, that’s just how it is.”

Suddenly, Zuko turned around; not moving from Sokka’s grasp as he turned back to the fish. He hesitated for a long moment, before reaching forward to grab the knife from the counter. Sokka smiled and squeezed him a little tighter, resting his chin on Zuko’s shoulder. He reached one hand around Zuko’s left arm, his fingers curling around his boyfriend’s hand.

“What are you doing?” asked Zuko, glancing at Sokka out of the corner of his eye.

“You think I trust my princess with a knife?” He turned to press a kiss to the edge of Zuko’s jaw, the smile never leaving his face. “Here, let me help you.”


	11. All the Things You Are to Me - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, love confessions, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 446

“I’m in love with you.”

Sokka froze, his heart pounding in his ears. “Why?”

He regretted the question the moment it left his lips but there was no way for him to take it back. It was already spoken, out there, and as much as he wanted to pretend it was never said, he couldn’t. He turned around slowly, his gaze shifting away when he saw the fallen expression on Zuko’s face.

“Why wouldn’t I love you?” asked Zuko, biting down on his lip. “You’re smart and funny and clever and you make me smile like no one else ever has. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner but Sokka, you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.”

“But I’m not.” He wasn’t trying to be self-deprecating, the words just kept falling out. “I’m stupid and I’m weak and I make the world’s _worst_ jokes. I don’t understand why you would choose me. Why—Why would you ever pick me when there are so many better people that you could—”

“Because I _love you_. You’re not stupid or weak and your jokes might be terrible, but I don’t care because they make me laugh. I know they make you laugh too, and I love that. I love your smile and the way your whole face lights up when you talk about the things you care about and—”

“Stop. Please. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to you, Sokka.” Zuko took a step forward, reaching out for Sokka’s hand. Sokka didn’t pull away, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his gaze, even when Zuko laced their fingers together and gave his hand a squeeze. “I think you’re beautiful and kind and I know you don’t believe me, but I love you more than anything else in the world. Please just let me prove it to you.”

It was hard. More than anything, Sokka wanted to believe that Zuko was telling him the truth, but everything in his mind was screaming at him that it wasn’t true. That there was no way Zuko—arguably the most powerful firebender in the world and the literal _Fire Lord_ —would ever choose him. But he did, and Sokka had to believe it.

“I’m sorry.” Slowly, gently, Sokka leaned into his shoulder, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. Zuko’s arms were warm when they slid around his back, holding him close and reminding him he was safe and cared for. “I should have said I love you too.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.” Zuko pressed a kiss to the top of his head, pulling him in a little tighter. “I already knew.”


	12. Rest - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, light angst
> 
>  **prompt:** zuko always goes to bed first. because of this, he doesn’t always know how late sokka’s staying up. but sometimes, he’ll awake in the middle of the night and find his husband at his desk, scribbling away at something with an upset or frustrated look on his face. whenever this happens, zuko just slides out of bed, regardless of how sleepy he is, and wanders over to the desk. he presses a kiss to sokka’s temple, gives him a gentle hug, and reaches for his hand to guide him into bed. sokka always follows, he just needs a little nudge. [via [@tikmasjiens](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/629910517342961664/zuko-always-goes-to-bed-first-because-of-this-he)]
> 
>  **word count:** 682

At a certain point, Zuko was no longer surprised to find his husband awake past a certain hour of the night.

Zuko was, admittedly, quite the lightweight. He got up stupidly early for work, and hard as he might have tried to stay awake, he always crashed by the time the sun went down. Sokka was not the same. As he was no firebender, Sokka did _not_ prefer to rise with the sun and generally slept in two hours later than his husband. Zuko never cared. He didn’t mind their schedules being a little off.

That is, until he realized just how late Sokka was staying up, at which point his concern began to grow.

Sokka was working. Every time Zuko woke up and found him sitting at the desk, he was working. At first, Zuko tried to _talk_ him into going to bed, but Sokka was too damn dedicated to his projects and refused to budge. So Zuko tried another. And another. Until he finally found the one that worked. That was the one he used when he woke up that night, blinking twice when he saw the candle on the desk beside him.

He didn’t say a word, sliding the blankets off himself as he gently rose to his feet. Zuko shoved his hair out of the way, flipping it over one side of his head as he shuffled over to where Sokka was working. Whether his husband heard him was questionable, as his hand never once ceased its gentle movements across the page in front of him; his frustrated gaze fully focused on the words.

Rather than trying to speak, Zuko only walked over to his husband, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. Finally, Sokka’s hand ceased its movement, his shoulders drooping when Zuko wrapped his arms around them. Sokka leaned into his husband’s grasp, biting down on his lip, and twisting the brush between his fingers. He was still thinking about it. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

“Hey.” Zuko slid one of his arms away from Sokka’s shoulders as he whispered, reaching up to drag his fingers through his husband’s unkempt hair. “You got to get some rest.”

Sokka shook his head, lifting his hand to chew on his thumbnail. He shifted closer into Zuko’s arm, his eyes still moving back and forth as he read and reread the words across the page in front of him. Zuko continued to comb his fingers through Sokka’s hair, his other hand squeezing him a little closer.

“I can’t figure this out.”

His tone was dejected, each word quieter than the last. Sokka pulled his hand from his mouth, reaching back down to grasp onto his brush. He squeezed it in both hands, his eyes barely blinking as the brush nearly snapped against the weight of his fingers. Zuko leaned forward, leaving a kiss on the top of his husband’s head as he slid his hand from Sokka’s hair, replacing the poor wooden brush with his hand.

“It’s okay.”

He didn’t hesitate before gently tugging on Sokka’s hand, urging him toward the bed. It took a moment, but Sokka stood up behind his husband, his fingers never once releasing their grip on Zuko’s fingers. Though Zuko sat down first, crawling onto his side of the bed, he shifted before Sokka had the chance to pull him into his arms as he usually did.

Zuko slid his arms around Sokka’s waist, shifting his head into his husband’s shoulder and pulling him in close. At first, Sokka seemed a little surprised, but he relaxed into Zuko’s grasp, ignoring the long black hair which had to be tickling his back. Zuko let out a soft breath, stretching forward to press one last kiss to the edge of Sokka’s jawline before relaxing into his place.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Sokka’s voice was quiet, but he didn’t hesitate for a second. “I love you too.”

In all honesty, Zuko didn’t know how long it took Sokka to fall asleep after that, but he slept better knowing his husband was okay.


	13. Even With Your Faults - [Sokka & the Gaang, Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, chronic pain, established relationship, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** GAang giving some hugs at the same time to Sokka after some good ole hurting? And it sucks because he’s just exposed himself in front of all of the people closest to him [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/631366416815325184/gaang-giving-some-hugs-at-the-same-time-to-sokka)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,201

“Come _on_ , Sokka, you can do this.”

Sokka swung the blade again, barely flinching when it collided with the shield. The echo from the impact rang around him, but he was too focused on his own thoughts to pay attention to it. It was a decent strike, the power fully there and the intent right on point, he just couldn’t get his stance right. He was leaning too far to the right, tripping in the snow despite it once being the terrain he trusted most.

“That wasn’t good enough,” he mumbled again, brushing the sweat off his brow before readjusting his feet to start again. “Come on…”

He couldn’t get himself balanced. It didn’t matter how many times he readjusted or reset, Sokka just couldn’t find a way to stand that didn’t ache. He glanced back over to his cane, lying in the snow behind him, and quickly shook his head. He didn’t need it. Maybe it felt a little—okay, a _lot_ —better when he was using it, but he couldn’t rely on it forever. He was a _warrior_ , dammit, and he wasn’t going to just sit around when his people needed him.

“One more time… just one more try, and you got this. You’re not a failure, Sokka. You’re just out of practice. You’re not going to mess it up again. You’re not going to fall over again. You’re not— _you’re not fucking good enough_.”

The worst part wasn’t even the fact that his leg collapsed and sent him slamming down into the snow, it was the _awful_ sound that escaped his lips as he dropped to his knees; his head hanging and his chest rising and falling heavily. He couldn’t do it. He tried _so hard_ and he still couldn’t do it. When he was a kid, Sokka wanted to be a warrior, maybe even Chief of the Southern Water Tribe one day, and it just wasn’t possible anymore. Not if he could barely stand.

Were he closer to the tribe, or training with any of his friends, Sokka wouldn’t have let himself be weak. He would’ve pushed himself up and gotten back to work, regardless of how much pain he was in. But no one else was there, and when he shifted his leg, a shooting pain searing up and down it, he couldn’t stop the sob from escaping his lips. The hair from his wolftail tickled his forehead as he bent down toward the snow, each breath shaking a little more. He hoped stretching his leg out would help but somehow, all it did was make it worse.

“Hey.” Sokka squeezed his eyes shut tighter when he felt Katara’s arm around his shoulders. It didn’t matter how soft and reassuring her words sounded, he was still _so ashamed_ of the state he was in. “Are you okay, Sokka?”

He nodded briskly, hoping it came off more genuine than it felt. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. What happened?” Though he knew it was Suki on his other side, Sokka refused to look at her. He only shook his head in response, hoping the angle at which he was doubled over would stop them from seeing the tears that squeezed out of his eyes. “Sokka, it’s okay. You can talk to us.”

“No, I don’t need to. I’m _fine_.”

“If you’re so fine, then why did you run off earlier?” Toph’s words weren’t malicious or pointed, only concerned, and filled with genuine curiosity as to what happened with her friend. She clung to his arm, as if he might run away again. “We asked you to train with us and you said you didn’t have time.”

“I can’t train with you,” Sokka mumbled. It was weird. He felt like he should be overwhelmed by all his friends around him, but somehow, the warmth brought nothing but comfort. Not that it made him any more willing to talk or shake his head. “I tried but I can’t— I can’t even train by _myself_. I’m not— I’m not good enough.”

“That’s just not true.” There was only so much Sokka to go around, but somehow, Aang found a place at his back. His arms were around Sokka’s back, his fuzzy coat soft and tickling the back of his neck. “You’re amazing, Sokka. You’re the greatest swordsman I’ve ever known, not counting Master Piandao.”

“But I can’t do it anymore. I’m trying _so hard,_ but it _hurts_. Every time I stand up it hurts, and I don’t know how to— this means _everything_ to me, and I can’t do it. I can’t fight or balance or barely even walk in the snow and if I can’t do that, I’m not good for _anything_. I’m just— I’m _useless_.”

“You are _not_ useless. Hey. Sokka. Look at me.” Of course, the fingers which finally lifted his chin were warm and ungloved, gently stroking the edge of his jawline and finding a place on his cheek. It took a long moment for Sokka to find the courage to look up at Zuko; sat right in front of him with one thumb still caressing his face. “You are not useless, Sokka. Especially not because of this. It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

Sokka opened his mouth to respond, but another tear escaped his eye first. His voice shook when he finally found the words, no part of the sentence coming out as more than a whisper. “I wanted to be a warrior.”

“I know you did, and you don’t ever have to let go of that dream, but I need you to take a deep breath, okay? We got you.”

Zuko pressed a kiss to Sokka’s forehead before pulling him into his shoulder, finally completing the circle of friends that formed around him. It took a moment for Sokka to settle in, but once he did, he lost it. His entire body trembled as he reached out to cling to Zuko’s back, his friends staying quiet but not one of them releasing their grasp. It was nice, too nice, and suddenly, Sokka found his mouth running without him again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his head still pressed into Zuko’s shoulder. “This is so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” said Katara, giving him another squeeze. “We’re your family, Sokka. You don’t ever have to feel stupid around us.”

“She’s right.” Suki’s voice was calming, her words relaxed and gentle. “We love you. We all do.”

Somehow, there was still a part of Sokka that wanted to argue. A voice in the back of his head _screaming_ that he wasn’t good enough and he didn’t deserve one bit of their love, but he couldn’t say it. Not when they were all holding him so close, quietly reassuring him as he all but sobbed into Zuko’s coat. He might’ve been a failure or unworthy or all those things he couldn’t stop thinking about, but it didn’t matter because they loved him.

They loved him with all his stupid faults and his insecurities and for some reason, realizing that only made him cry harder. They really loved him for whatever stupid reason he couldn’t even _begin_ to explain, and he really, really loved them too.


	14. (You're Not) Useless - [Katara & Sokka, Hakoda & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, chronic pain, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** how [sokka's] family helps him through [his chronic pain.] [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/631809095318568960/im-really-fond-of-chronic-painsokka-so-id-love)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,421

“Hey, bud. You okay? You weren’t at practice this morning.”

Sokka barely glanced up from his papers before shifting back and nodding briskly. He was not okay. He was very definitively not okay, but he didn’t want to say that. At that point, he couldn’t even remember how many times he’d had to miss practice over his stupid leg, and each day he had to add a line to the tally, he hated himself a little more. Despite his silence, it was his outstretched leg that gave him away.

“How’s your leg?” It was an indirect question, at least, but Hakoda’s words were still filled with concern that made Sokka’s stomach twist with guilt. He was supposed to be a _warrior_. Not a little kid that his dad still had to worry about. “Come on, Sokka, you can talk to me. It looked like it was hurting you last night. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His fingers gripped tighter around the brush in his hand, shaking in their place above the page. The ink that dripped from its bristles ruined his work, marking the page with imperfect stains. He dropped it back into the inkwell, running a hand over his face. “I just had a lot to catch up on here, it’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m always worried about you. That’s my job.”

Hakoda sighed and slid a few papers to the side to sit next to his son, his gaze lingering on his outstretched leg. At that point, Sokka’s positioning was mostly natural, because it was the only way he could sit and not feel like he could sense every damn muscle down to the bones. He forced a smile when Hakoda squeezed his shoulder but failed to hold eye contact for more than a second.

“Sorry.” He sniffed, biting down on his lip as he shifted his gaze back to the papers in front of him. “I should’ve told you I wasn’t coming this morning. I really didn’t want you to worry, I just have all this to catch up on, and—”

“Dad? You in there?” Both Sokka and Hakoda looked up when Katara poked her head in, her expression softening when she looked to her brother. Sokka grit his teeth and turned his head away. He didn’t want her taking pity on him too. “Everything all right? Bato said he was looking for you guys.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, Katara.” The tone wasn’t intentional and the moment the snappy words left his mouth, Sokka felt the guilt building inside of him again. It wasn’t her fault. He didn’t have to take it out on her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just… I woke up and my leg hurts like shit. For no reason. Like it always does. So, I couldn’t go to training and I feel like an _idiot_ because there are _eight-year-olds_ out there doing things I can’t—”

He threw a hand over his eyes, shifting away from his dad when he felt the reassuring hand on his back. The tears built up in the back of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Just like he said, it was stupid. There were little kids out there, skinning their knees to become warriors and stabbing themselves learning how to fish and Sokka was crying over an injury from _ages_ ago. It was weak. Pathetic. If it didn’t ache so badly, he would’ve kicked himself for being so upset about it.

“No, hey, that’s not fair to yourself.” Suddenly, Katara was sat beside his outstretched leg, carefully rolling up his deep blue pantleg. He wanted to tell her to stop, but the moment the cool water was on his skin, glowing and getting movement in his leg without him having to do a thing, it felt too good to resist. “This isn’t your fault, Sokka. You shouldn’t put yourself down for something you have no control over.”

“But I _do_. I wanted to be a _warrior_ and now I’m just—” He hesitated, nibbling on the edge of his bottom lip as he blinked the tears from his eyes. “Before I was just a guy with a boomerang and now I’m a guy with a boomerang who can’t even do anything with it.”

“That’s not true.” This time, Hakoda’s arm wrapped fully around Sokka’s shoulders, pulling him in close. Sokka didn’t resist, not wanting to leave the embrace no matter how pathetic he felt trying to find comfort in his dad’s heartbeat. “Just because your leg isn’t as strong as it used to be doesn’t mean you lost any of your skills. You’re still an amazing swordsman, inventor, fisher, _warrior_ , and so much more. You know we all love you, right, bud?”

It took too long for Sokka to nod. He knew that, he just didn’t always believe it. It wasn’t anything to do with them, itwas his own stupid brain telling him he wasn’t good enough for them. That people as amazing as his family and his tribe didn’t deserve to be bogged down by his dead weight and they could never really love him when he was constantly abandoning them because of a little pain.

“I know.” He didn’t know how convincing he sounded, but he did his best. “I just— ever since I hurt my leg, I just feel so _useless_ sometimes. I don’t even really have anything to do here, I was just making busy work because my leg hurts, and I didn’t want to get up.”

“Okay.” Hakoda nodded, giving Sokka’s shoulder a reassuring rub. “You’re not useless, Sokka. You are the exact opposite of that. You don’t have to be up and running around all the time to help out. And you know what? If you want to get out of here for a bit, you could come over to the training grounds and help me coach the kids for a bit. You don’t have to stand up or anything, and you’re very much helping me because I have no idea how to teach them. Just ask Bato.”

If nothing else, that got him to smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course, if you don’t feel like you can walk all the way over there, that’s fine too. I’m sure we can find something for you to work on in here.”

“No, it’s okay.” Sokka turned to look at Katara, who shot him an encouraging glance as she bent her water back into her pouch. “I got my cane, and it feels a little better now. Thanks, Katara. I’m really sorry to you both, though. I didn’t mean to worry you or anything.”

“It’s not a bad thing for us to be worried about you, you know,” said Katara. She slid over to him, sitting on his other side. “The only reason we worry is because we care. We just want to make sure you’re okay. You would do the same thing for us.”

“She’s right.” Hakoda nodded, glancing over to his daughter. “We really do love you, Sokka. I know this has all been really hard on you, but don’t hide away from us, okay? If something’s wrong or you need a day off because your leg hurts, just say something. We’re going to support you no matter what.”

“Thank you.” He choked a little on his words, but he tried not to let it get to him. They really did love him. So much. Probably more than he ever deserved. “I love you guys too.”

Hakoda reached out an arm to pull Katara into their hug, squeezing his kids in close. His embrace was warm and comforting and somehow, even though he felt like he should feel stupid or pathetic, Sokka just felt safe. Safe and loved and okay. He didn’t even resist his family’s help when they finally stood up, and both Katara and Hakoda offered to help him walk over to the training grounds.

It still hurt more than it should’ve, and he ended up leaning on his dad for support most of the way there just because of how uneven the snow was, but it was okay. For once, he let himself be vulnerable with them, if only because his leg hurt too much to shut himself off. Hakoda was right. It was hard and it was weird, and he didn’t know how to get through it alone, but he didn’t have to. He had his family.

And that was so much more than enough.


	15. Don't Blame Yourself - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, chronic pain, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** what if Sokka is there for one of zukos assassination attempts and it’s not a bad injury but for Sokka he just feels awful because his leg stopped him from really helping out in fighting against the attacker, he feels like it’s all his fault and he can’t do anything so he just hides away until zukos like, nu-Uh [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632235847304069121/ok-ok-what-if-sokka-is-there-for-one-of-zukos)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,462

_“Get down!”_

Sokka couldn’t help him. The assassin was apprehended hours ago and Zuko got away with what looked like minimal injuries, but the words kept ringing in Sokka’s head. The screams, the warnings, and his stupid fucking inability to move. He dragged his right leg in closer to himself, pressing his forehead against his knee. He wanted to make himself smaller, but he couldn’t move his other leg. Not without inflicting a pain too sharp for how old his injury was at that point.

 _“He’s trying to kill the Fire Lord_. _”_

It was a bad day. There was no good reason for it. There never was. Sometimes, Sokka’s leg just hurt worse than other times and there didn’t seem to be any explainable pattern for it. He barely wanted to get out of bed that day, but Zuko begged him to come to the nobles’ dinner and practically carried him the whole way there. But Sokka could still hardly walk, even with his cane. It hurt too much for that. It hurt too much to fight.

_“Fire Lord Zuko’s been hurt!”_

The blood scared him more than anything else and started the guilt churning in his stomach. Zuko was hurt and it was his fault. Zuko could be _dying_ and it was his fault. He had his boomerang on him and he managed to knock the guy out but not until it was already too late. Not until Zuko was already on the floor bleeding and clutching his side in a way that made Sokka want to walk right over and finish the job. But he couldn’t because he couldn’t fucking move.

“ _We need to get him to the infirmary.”_

More than anything else in the world, Sokka wanted to carry him there. He wanted to rise to his feet and pick up his husband and carry him to the healer himself, but he couldn’t because his leg could barely take his own weight, let alone a hundred and eighty pounds of Zuko. So, he was forced to sit by and do nothing. To watch and slowly follow behind with his cane while someone else carried Zuko to the infirmary. All because Sokka wasn’t strong enough to save him.

_“You should have been there for him!”_

Nobody said those words but somehow, it felt like they were screaming them. Staring at him as he all but hobbled down the hall, wanting nothing more than to hold his husband’s hand. Zuko seemed to be somewhat conscious but he was clearly losing blood and watching him bleed out, being rescued in another man’s arms, hurt. Sokka wasn’t jealous, he was just upset. He was so fucking disappointed in himself for not being able to help. For letting Zuko get hurt because he couldn’t get over his stupid chronic pain.

“Hey. Sokka. Babe. I need you to look at me, okay?”

Those words weren’t in his head. In all honesty, Sokka was so deep into his thoughts at that point, he hadn’t even realized that he’d been crying until Zuko was knelt in front of him; one hand stroking his cheek and the other reaching out to squeeze his arm. Sokka lifted his head for just long enough to shift it off his knee and lean against Zuko’s shoulder, his breaths shaking and his chest rising and falling heavily as his loose, light brown hair tickled his husband’s neck.

“Are you okay?” Sokka’s words were thick with sobs but he couldn’t explain where they were coming from.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He said that, but he wore only a loose-fitting robe and the bandages around his waist and his hip were all too noticeable. Sokka squeezed him a little tighter. “They said it looked like a lot more blood than it was.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

“It’s okay. It was just a couple of stitches. It’s not that bad.” Zuko pressed a kiss to Sokka’s temple, rubbing his back reassuringly. Words could not express how stupid he felt for crying when it was Zuko who was in pain. “I was just worried about you because they said they didn’t know where you went. Sokka. Hey. I’m okay. They arrested the assassin and they said I’m going to be fine. We’re all right.”

Of course, they couldn’t find him. Sokka was hiding away in one of the places only Zuko knew to look. The very back of the palace library, surrounded by books and shrouded in the darkness. There were few places he truly felt comfortable in the Fire Nation, even after years of regular visits, but that little spot with his books and the pillow beside Zuko on their bed were better than anywhere else. He sniffed, shifting his arms to make sure he wasn’t hurting his husband’s wound.

“But I couldn’t help you.” He was pathetic. Choking on his words and clinging to Zuko’s back as he soaked his poor husband’s shirt with his tears. “You were— you were bleeding and I thought you were going to die, and I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t— my leg wouldn’t take the weight, and what if— what if something happens again and no one else is there to save you and I can’t do anything because I’m fucking useless and you—”

“No.” Zuko’s tone was firm and solid as he moved his hands from around Sokka’s shoulders to his cheeks, gently urging him to look up and brushing away his tears with his thumbs. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever, _ever_ say that. I know how hard this is for you sometimes, but you are not useless, and you do not say that you are. You are amazing and important and so, so smart and I don’t know what I would ever do without you. And I know it doesn’t make anything better, but you got that injury doing something so incredibly brave and you should never, _ever_ feel ashamed of that, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” It was hard to believe. It was so, _so_ fucking hard to convince himself that what Zuko was saying was true but if there was one thing he did know it was that they loved each other. They loved each other and Zuko wouldn’t lie. “Promise you’re not going to get hurt anymore.”

He hesitated, wetting his lips, and dragging his thumbs back over Sokka’s fresh tears before he spoke. “Listen, Sokka, I don’t know what’s going happen in the future so I don’t know if I can promise you that, but I want you to know that I’m never going to leave you, okay? I know that’s a really real fear for you, but you mean the whole entire world to me and I don’t care if you’re hurting or you’re sad, I’m going to be here for you. I’m _always_ going to be here for you. Just talk to me. I promise I won’t think you’re weak.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just felt so _stupid_ watching everyone else take care of you and I couldn’t— I couldn’t do anything. You’re my _husband_ and I couldn’t do anything.”

“I understand that, and it’s okay to feel that way, but you know what? Hey.” Zuko nudged Sokka to lift his chin, and only then did Sokka realize his husband’s eyes were getting teary too. “The healer said I should stay in bed for a few days while these stitches heal, and you know who gets to hang out with me?”

“Druk?”

Zuko laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s going be sneaking himself in there at some point, but I was talking about _you_ , Sokka. We can just say to hell with the work for a week and stay in bed and cuddle, and read, and play Pai Sho, and you can tell me all about the stuff you’ve been working on. And then we can both feel like idiots for sitting around all day because we’re barely twenty-five and we’re laying around like we’re eighty. Does that sound okay?”

“Depends on the eighty-year-old, some of them are pretty active.” Finally, he was able to smile through his tears, shaking his head at Zuko’s goofy comments. “But yeah. Yeah, that sounds a lot more than just okay.”

“Okay, come on.” Zuko slid a hand around Sokka’s waist, pulling his left arm over his shoulder for support. Almost immediately, Sokka started to pull away, his gaze shifting down to Zuko’s side, but his husband spoke before he could voice his concern. “It’s okay. It hurts less with a beautiful genius holding my hand.”

In response, all Sokka could do was smile. He didn’t know what he did to deserve Zuko, but he didn’t think he would ever be able to top it.


	16. It's Not Funny (if it Breaks You) - [Sokka & the Gaang]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, chronic pain, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** Sokka is a comedian right? So what if a way to sort of destress is to like joke about his insecurities and what’s troubling him and the gaang are like, wait that’s not funny cuz it isn’t true, and then give him good hugs, plus he’s gotta cane here [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632329986933751808/alright-sokka-is-a-comedian-right-so-what-if-a)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,229

“Hey, Sokka, we’re going to go hang out by the otter penguins for a bit. You want to come?”

It was an innocent question. Aang wore a smile on his face that said all he wanted was to make sure his friend was included. He’d certainly extended the same invitation to the others, but it wasn’t the same. They didn’t look to the paths of rough snow and think about how hard it would be to walk on them. They didn’t have to think about the possibility that their knee might give out after standing up for too long. Sokka shook his head, against everything he wished he could do.

“No thanks,” said Sokka, forcing a smile. He hoped he sounded more genuine than he felt. “I actually already had plans to spend my morning moping around here, so. Thought I’d stick to that.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He waved a hand around dismissively. “I just don’t want to ruin your day with my dead weight leg and all, you know? But then again, we were just talking about how I’m pretty much useless anyway, so maybe it would be a better idea to take me to the bottom of the hill where I couldn’t walk back up again and just be done with it. I think I could make a pretty good otter penguin. I’ve definitely got my waddle down.”

“That’s not funny.” It wasn’t Aang who said that, but Katara, stepping up behind them on the docks. She knelt down beside Sokka where he sat in front of the water, placing one hand on his shoulder. He only shrugged. “Sokka, you’re not dead weight. And I know you’re not saying that as a joke, you’re saying that because you believe it. You’re deflecting like you always do.”

Sokka sniffed. She was right, after all. He just didn’t want to admit to it. For him, humor acted as a defense mechanism. It always had. Whenever he was upset or uncomfortable, he cracked a joke. He said something sarcastic or witty and it helped him refresh his mind. It gave him a chance to clear the tension, to calm himself down and stop thinking about the bad things. Was it the greatest way to cope? Probably not. But it made him feel better to joke about his issues because somehow, it made it feel like they weren’t all that bad.

“Yeah, okay. It still kind of applies, though,” said Sokka, kicking his feet over the edge of the dock. He winced when he pushed his left leg too far, dragging it back into him. “I really don’t think I’m going to be able to walk all the way over there today and I don’t want to drag you guys down, so. You guys just go ahead, okay? No one’s going to mind if you leave dumb old Sokka behind.”

“That is not true.” This time, it was Suki who knelt down close to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. When did they call come over there? “You know we don’t mind switching our plans around a little bit. We came here to spend time with you, Sokka. We’re not just going to leave you behind.”

“See, you say that now, but we all know you’re going to do it anyway. Maybe not today or tomorrow but it’s going to happen someday. You’re just— you’re going to recognize that I’m not half as good as any of you and I’m not worth sticking around for. You know who would make a great friend, though? A pentapus. You might not always _like_ where they’re sticking, but at least you know they’re not going to leave you, right?”

“Sokka.” He didn’t know where Toph was standing or how long she’d been there, but he couldn’t get himself to turn around either. Her tone was too serious, too hurt, and he hated the idea that it was his own self-deprecation that put her in that place. “These are some of the worst jokes you have ever made. And you’ve made a lot of really shitty jokes. You know none of that is true.”

“No, he doesn’t.” At least Zuko understood. He knew that Sokka was serious. That his stupid brain had some lingering feeling that with his fucked-up leg and his skill-range being half of that of his friends, they were all going to abandon him just like everyone else had before. “Sokka, listen to me. I know how you feel. After my mother left, I had this weird sense of distrust, like… I didn’t know if my uncle was going to stay. After I was banished. I was always scared he might leave.”

“But he didn’t,” Sokka mumbled.

“He didn’t. I shouted at him and hurt him, and I told him to leave me alone more times than I can count, but he didn’t. He never left. Do you know why?”

“Because you were strong?”

“Because he loved me.” Zuko’s tone was soft and caring and somehow, it finally got Sokka to tear his eyes from the water. He turned around to look at him, their eyes meeting when he lifted his gaze. Only then did he finally see all his friends gathered in front of him, oddly sad expressions on their faces despite how annoying Sokka was being. “We love you too, Sokka. We’re not going to leave you for anything.”

And suddenly, he was buried in his friends’ arms. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his own arms sliding around Zuko and Katara because they were the ones in front of him, though he embraced the rest of them as much as he could. Sokka didn’t know how to stop his brain from telling him that they were going to leave, that his stupid thoughts weren’t real, and it was just something he’d been fixated on because of bad experiences in his life, but he wanted to.

He held on to his friends tightly, allowing himself a moment to let his guard down, before he finally slid away. All hands were not off him. Zuko kept one hand on his knee, Katara on his shoulder, and Momo was suddenly draped across the top of his head for reasons that could not be explained. It felt okay. By no means was Sokka suddenly happy, but he felt content. Better. The edge of his lip curled as he looked up to his friends.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Toph clapped him on the back joyfully, a grin on her face as she threw her arms around his shoulders. “You know we love you, Snoozles.”

Sokka smile was only a little forced. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, well, I want to get a move on.” Aang hopped to his feet suddenly, brushing his hands off in front of him. “Do you have your cane, Sokka? I’ll call Appa and he can fly us over to the—”

“No need!” Again, it was Toph who stood up and followed his lead. “Hey, Sugar Queen, you can smooth out all that snow, right?”

“Yes,” Katara started hesitantly, “but I have a feeling I’m not going to like whatever you’re thinking of doing with it.”

“Aang, remember when you told me about those mail chutes in Omashu? Well, I have an idea that might make this a little more fun for all of us…”


	17. Nightmare - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** nightmares, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“Wake up.”

Sokka blinked when he heard the words, his heart still racing and his unconscious mind replaying those same traumatizing visions.

“You’re okay, penguin.”

Long black hair tickled the back of his neck as strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in close to their chest.

“It was just a dream.”

The soft kiss pressed to the top of his head and the hand squeezing his helped him to remember that.

“Try to go back to sleep, okay?”

All he could do was nod, unable to speak through choked back tears.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	18. Stabbing 101 - [Mai & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, implied/referenced child abuse, angst
> 
>  **prompt:** have you considered zuko but stabby? and 5 feet tall? a stabby gremlin who is out to steal your kneecaps? filled with rage and vengence toward his father? [via [@vibe](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632723292995911680/oh-cool-the-milestone-was-hit-yay-for-the-promt)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,246

“I want you to teach me how to stab someone.”

“Sorry, _what_?” Mai blinked, giving Zuko a look that could only be described as utter disbelief. He climbed in her bedroom window at half past midnight, no shoes, ripped jeans, just expecting her to give him a lesson on how to kill someone. “Zuko, are you drunk or something? What are you even doing here?”

“I just told you. I want to stab someone.” He reached into his pocket suddenly, pulling out a small knife. Mai’s eyes went wide, and she reached out to take it, but he pulled his arm away from her, keeping it out of her grasp. “Stabby now, questions later. Where’s the best spot if I want to kill someone?”

“Well, who are you trying to kill? How tall? You’re only like, five-three, Zuko. You’re not exactly in prime position to be stabbing most people, no offense.”

His face fell, but he quickly recovered, shrugging stiffly. “Maybe like, half a foot taller than me? It’s all hypothetical, of course. I would really prefer stabbing but if I wanted to take out his— _their_ —kneecaps instead, then how might I go about doing that?”

“Okay, first you want me to teach you how to stab someone, and now you want me to teach you how to break their kneecaps? What the fuck are you on? Come here, let me see your eyes. Are they bloodshot from sleep or drugs or…?”

“No!” Zuko ripped away from her when she moved her hands forward again, almost backing out the open window. The risk of him falling was the only reason Mai gave up her fight. “Just teach me how to stab someone, okay? In self-defense. Totally. And breaking their kneecaps too. It’s not a _guaranteed_ thing, it’s just like, what if I need to? You know?”

“No, I don’t know. Zuko, what is this about? Did you have another fever dream?” When he failed to respond, she groaned, glancing over at the clock on her nightstand. “Fine, I’ll show you, but I want to be in bed by two so we have to be done with whatever this is by then, okay?”

“Yep. Sounds good. Now, teach me how to stab already. I get the basics of it, but what’s the best place to stab? Where would I stab if I wanted to hurt someone the most?”

“I mean, the brain would probably be the best place to stab, but if you want prolonged pain, you go for the gut.”

“Great, got it.” He twisted the knife around in his hands, testing a few stabs. Mai nearly reached over to stop him, not fully trusting him with the knife, but decided it was safer to let him mess around than to fight him for it. “And do you think it would be better to stab him— _them_ —before or after I break their kneecaps?”

“I think it would be better if you were honest with me.” Zuko’s face fell and he gripped the handle of the knife tightly, as if he weren’t expecting Mai to be concerned. “Look, I know you’re quirky sometimes, but it’s pastmidnight and you broke into my window acting like you’re about to kill someone. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just teach me to stab better, okay? What’s the fastest way? Like, if someone was coming at you with like, I don’t know, a blowtorch, and—”

“Did you have another dream about that? About your attacker?”

He didn’t answer, and there was no part of Mai that was surprised. Everyone knew what happened when Zuko was thirteen—how could they not, what with the mark left on his face let alone the one on his heart—but he didn’t talk about it much. Only when he had trouble sleeping because of it, or he confided in a new friend about the origins of his scar.

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” said Mai. She kept her tone as even and as gentle as she could, doing her best to reassure him though dealing with emotions was hard. His face had fallen as he bit down on his lip, his eyes wide with what could only be described as fear. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know it’s scary in your dreams, but that asshole can’t ever hurt you again.”

“Yes, he can.” Zuko’s voice was quiet, tears pooling in his eyes as he struggled to meet Mai’s gaze. She wanted to beg for answers, but she didn’t know what to say. “I lied, Mai. I lied to you and to everyone because it wasn’t random. It was my— it was my father.”

Mai’s heart dropped into her stomach. It wasn’t possible. All those years, he lied. They thought it was random, that he was safe once he was out of the hospital and they threw that man into prison, but it was a _lie_. He wasn’t safe. He’d never been safe. Sadness turned into rage and suddenly, all Mai wanted to do was stab his father too.

“I thought I was okay,” he babbled, biting down on his lip between words, “but he saw my phone and our messages, and he _knows_ , Mai. He _knows_. He saw what I said to you about boys and if I go back there, I think he’s going to kill me.”

“No. First thing, you’re not going home. Fuck what I said about leaving by two, you’re not going anywhere.” The way his words shook made her shake too, her nails cutting into her palms as she clenched her hands into too tight fists. “And second, give me that knife for a second.”

Zuko hesitated but held out the knife. “Why?”

“Watch. If he comes at you from the front again, you fucking stab him right here.” Mai gently pointed the knife at Zuko’s abdomen, careful not to move too quickly or get too close. “And if he comes at you from the back, that’s when you duck and you break his fucking kneecaps. Okay? Here.”

It took a minute for Zuko to understand what was going on, but once he did, Mai was able to quickly get him ready to fight. She showed him just how to move his arms, teaching him to use a weapon he wasn’t as familiar with. Zuko knew blades better than anyone but the ones he preferred to wield weren’t exactly easy to conceal.

They kept practicing until well past one in the morning, at which point Zuko was an expert and had stabbed his fair share of worn out stuffed animals. He nearly tried to leave, to crawl back out the window despite what Mai said before, but she grabbed his wrist before he could. The look in her eyes said more than she could verbally express, so she let her words break the tension.

“Hey, just because I taught you how to use your knife doesn’t mean you can just go around stabbing everyone, okay? This is for self-defense. Don’t go turning into some angry, stabby gremlin on me.”

“I’m already an angry, stabby gremlin,” said Zuko, already twisting his knife back around in his hand. “I just have a smaller blade now.”

“All right, then promise you’re not going to go on any raging killing sprees?”

“Didn’t I just do that?”

It took Mai an embarrassingly long time to realize he was talking about the stuffed animals.


	19. (Don't) Break - [Hakoda & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, emotional hurt/comfort, angst
> 
>  **prompt:** Sokka getting really really mad from like stress from work at the tribe or the fire nation and then he just snaps and yells as someone, then he opens up. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632746018732195840/what-do-you-think-of-sokka-like-just-getting)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,099

Done.

That was the only word to describe how Sokka felt at that point. He’d gone over his plans a thousand times, adjusted the tactics, recalculated the equations, and it still didn’t work. It still didn’t work, and it didn’t even matter but he needed something to focus on that wasn’t what he’d been doing for the last six hours.

He dragged his hands across the sides of his head, tugging at the loose hairs that escaped his wolftail. Sokka became more aware of how restless he was getting each time he did that or chewed on the remnants of his thumbnail, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was just so fucking stressed; he didn’t know how to deal with it anymore.

“Sokka?” He looked up when his dad stepped in, but quickly returned to the papers he left scattered across the blanket in front of him. Hakoda knelt down beside his son, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay? You weren’t at lunch.”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Sokka snapped, his tone far harsher than he’d intended. He reached out for his writing utensils, already returning to his work. “I’m just trying to figure out how to make this work. I think I did the measurements wrong somewhere, but I checked all the math, and I can’t…”

His voice trailed off, but Hakoda picked up the silence. “You want me to take a look at it for you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve just been working on a lot of shit today and I think my mind’s a little cloudy. I’ll figure it out, just leave me alone for a bit. I’m really close.”

“Seriously, son, it’s no big deal. I worked on this kind of thing a lot before the war. Don’t know what all that mechanical stuff is but I can definitely plan a structure. Which one are you sketching right now? I’ll see if I can’t help you figure this out.”

“Wait, no, stop.” If there was one thing Sokka hated more than not being able to figure things out, it was having people up in his work. He slid away when his dad sat down beside him, trying to move his papers with him and almost kicking his Hakoda’s hand away when he reached out for the scrolls. “ _No_ , Dad. _Stop_! Stop it! I don’t want your help!”

“Sokka—”

“ _Stop_. Get away from me!”

All Hakoda wanted to do was help. He was just trying to help when he sat down, when he reached out for Sokka’s arm, and all Sokka did was shove him away. Literally. He yanked back, sliding away from him, and dragging his arms into his chest defensively. Sokka shifted away when his dad tried to give his shoulder a squeeze, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Okay.” Hakoda held his hands up in defense, slowly moving away from Sokka. He waited until they were a few feet apart to speak again, his voice low and gentle, his words careful and deliberate. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to touch your things, okay? Just take a deep breath.”

Sokka did as he was told, inhaling through his nose, and exhaling out his mouth, but there was nothing he could do for his heart. It pounded in his chest, his eyes wide and his fingers wrapping around the cloth of his pants. He couldn’t turn to look at his dad, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his fingers too tightly, trying to be rid of his frustration.

“Hey. You okay, bud? You want to help me what happened?”

“No.” His breath was still shaking from the adrenaline, and he could barely find the words to say. He couldn’t think, so much as formulate his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I mean, I’m okay, I just don’t want to— I’m not— I’m not okay. I don’t— I don’t think I’m okay.”

“Okay. Take another deep breath. Just tell me what’s going on, okay? What’s happening in up there right now?” He tapped the side of his head as he smiled, trying to encourage his son to go on. It didn’t work. “You don’t have to tell me everything, just let me know how I can help.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong anymore, I just— I’m tired and I’m sad and I just want it— I just want it all to stop. I just want a nap and a break, but I feel like I can’t— like I can’t have that.”

“Why not? You know we’ll let you have whatever you need, Sokka.”

“Yeah,but I can’t let _myself_ have it.” Finally, Sokka turned to meet his dad’s gaze, biting down on his thumbnail. He took another breath before trying to speak again, reminding himself that he was safe. Okay. Free to speak the way he needed to. “Ever since you left for the war, I’ve felt like I had this… this _duty_ to the tribe and our people and I’m trying to hold myself to this standard that I don’t— I can’t meet. I can’t do it.”

“That’s all right. You’re not even eighteen yet, bud. You’re just a kid.” The look on his face was so kind, so reassuring, that Sokka almost wanted to crawl into his arms right there and then. “If you need a break, you can have it. You damn well deserve one after everything you’ve been through. Nothing bad is going to happen if you take a little time off.”

“But I feel like it is. That’s what I’m trying to say. I feel like I have to protect everyone and if I stop, even for a day, something really bad is going to happen.”

“No, that’s not true. Come here.”

Sokka slid forward, relaxing when Hakoda pulled him into a tight embrace. He nuzzled his head into his dad’s chest, trying not to think about all the work that still needed to be finished. He was okay. His dad was there. He was allowed to breathe for one minute, just to catch his breath.

“Nothing is going to happen if you take a break,” said Hakoda quietly, rubbing his back reassuringly. “How about you just go ask your Gran Gran for some lunch and you can take a nap, all right? We’ll figure this out, I promise. Bato and I got everything under control. You just take as much rest as you need. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Though he said the word, Sokka didn’t move right away. Lunch sounded good. A nap sounded good. But he wasn’t quite ready to leave his dad’s arms yet.


	20. Sleeveless (1) - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, implied/referenced self-harm, scars, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** Perhaps [Sokka] tries out a new outfit for something and zuko helps and zuko finds out about his scars and zuko calls a gaang hug session and let Sokka get the hug he needs [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632814120368046080/more-sokka-angst-perhaps-he-tries-out-a-new)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,354

“You get lost in there?”

It shouldn’t have been so hard to answer such a simple question, but it was. Sokka dragged his arms in closer to himself, trying to hide them with his knees. Zuko was just being nice and he knew that. He just wanted to do something kind so that his boyfriend would feel more comfortable when he visited the Fire Nation, but it didn’t work.

Yes, the Fire Nation was ungodly hot and Sokka didn’t _really_ have any outfits to wear there. Yes, even his short-sleeved shirts were still heavy and warm, especially with his wrappings. Yes, the thin, gentle fabric of the clothing Zuko had made for him was soft and breezy and so, so comfortable, but he couldn’t wear it. He couldn’t wear it because it didn’t have sleeves.

“Come on, babe,” Zuko called again, knocking on the door impatiently. Sokka only shifted in his seat. “How long does it take to get changed? I want to see how beautiful you look.”

He wasn’t beautiful. The clothing was beautiful, with its flowing deep blue fabric and the sparkly jewels that accented it, but Sokka wasn’t beautiful. He was scarred and disgusting, and he knew that if Zuko saw him like that—if _anyone_ saw him like that—he wouldn’t want him anymore. He sniffed and ran a hand over his face. The least he could do was cry quietly.

“You okay, Sokka? Does it not fit? I can— hey.”

Zuko stopped the moment he walked in the door, and Sokka shifted his gaze away. He should have been saying his thanks. Gushing to his boyfriend about how beautiful the clothes was and how much he appreciated the gesture. But all he could do was sit there against the wall with his head on his knees; tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to avoid Zuko’s eyes.

“What happened? Sokka. Come here.” Zuko tried to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, but Sokka shifted away before he got the chance. He couldn’t let Zuko touch him like that. When he was gross and exposed and unwanted. “Okay. I won’t touch you. Just tell me what happened, okay? I want to help you.”

“I can’t wear this,” Sokka whispered. He adjusted himself again, resisting the urge to chew on his nail. He couldn’t move his arms. He couldn’t let Zuko see them past his knees. “I’m sorry.”

“Why not? Your muscles too big?” When Sokka only sniffed and pushed his head further into his knees, Zuko lifted an arm, barely resisting the urge to give him comfort. “Sokka, please. You don’t have to wear it. Just tell me what’s going on. Please. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. It’s—”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I’m just— I’m _so fucking ashamed_.”

“Of what? You’re _beautiful_ , Sokka.”

“No, I’m not, I’m _hideous_.” The sound that came out of his mouth was almost more shameful than what he was hiding on his arms and yet, somehow, he didn’t resist when Zuko pulled him into his arms. He kept his own hands down, doing his best to keep Zuko from seeing them. “I’m sorry. I like the clothes. I do. I just can’t—”

“I know. It’s okay.” Zuko pulled him in closer despite the embarrassing amount of tears Sokka left on his shoulder. He pressed a gentle kiss to Sokka’s temple, squeezing his arms around his back and taking deep breaths he intended for his boyfriend to follow. “You don’t have to tell me why.”

“But I’ll feel so fucking stupid if I don’t.”

“Sokka.” His tone was firm but caring, his hands shifting to hold either side of Sokka’s face. Their eyes met, Zuko’s deep and concerned, while Sokka’s were bloodshot and teary. “You don’t ever have to feel stupid for this, okay? You’re okay.”

“No, I’m not. I’m an _idiot_ , I— I want to tell you. I want to tell _all_ of you but I just—” Sokka swallowed hard, suddenly unable to hold Zuko’s gaze. “I think that if I tell you, you’re not going to want to have me around anymore.”

“That’s not true. There is _nothing_ you could tell me that would ever make me want to— oh, _shit_.”

His weeping was already bad but the _sob_ Sokka let out after holding up his arms was almost inhuman. Zuko stared at him for a long second before yanking him back into his grasp, one hand on the back of Sokka’s head as he nudged him back into his shoulder. Sokka reached around Zuko’s back, gripping on to his shirt, and squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Only his dad knew. Up to that point, Sokka’s dad was the _only_ person who knew and when Zuko found out, Sokka lost the ability to control himself. He cried into Zuko’s shoulder, hoping he would say something. _Anything_. After that one exclamation, all Zuko did was cling to Sokka like he thought he might lose him, holding him close and kissing his head again.

“You don’t ever have to feel ashamed of that, okay?” Sokka barely nodded. He wanted to believe that Zuko was telling the truth, that things would be the same if everyone knew, but he couldn’t. “I know it hurts right now and you’re scared but I want you to know that I still think you’re beautiful. If you want sleeves, we can add sleeves, but I think you’re amazing either way, okay? I love you, penguin.”

“I love you too, turtle duck,” he choked out, his words stunted through shaking breaths.

“Now, you want to see something? Look.” Zuko gently nudged Sokka’s head off his shoulder, pointing one finger to his own face. When Sokka frowned, he was quick to explain. “Half my face is fucking scar tissue and you still fell in love with me. You still wanted to be friends with me. All of you did. It’s going to be okay, Sokka. I promise.”

“But you didn’t do that to yourself.”

The look in his eyes hurt. “I know. It’s not the same but no one is going to judge you, okay? I won’t make you do anything if you’re not ready but if you walked out there right now, I don’t think anyone would say a word.”

“Because they’d be too busy staring at me?” Sokka sniffed, nuzzling back into Zuko’s shoulder.

“Because they love you. Come here.” Zuko didn’t lift his left hand from around Sokka’s back but slid his right to hold on to his hand. They rose to their feet slowly, Zuko shifting his and around Sokka’s waist. “Tell me if you’re not ready, okay?”

Sokka nodded but didn’t say anything. If he was ever going to do it, there was no better time. They stopped at the door, Zuko brushing his thumbs over Sokka’s face and pressing one more kiss to his forehead. He looked straight into his eyes, waiting for a little nod before he pushed the door open.

“Hey, guys,” said Zuko, looking down the hall to where his friends were still hanging out. “You want to see Sokka’s new outfit?”

Though his instinct was to keep covering his scars, to hold his arms close to himself and place his hands over the worst spots, Sokka stopped himself. Instead, he just leaned into Zuko, well aware of why his friends were stopped and staring at him. It wasn’t only because of his arms, but his bloodshot eyes and tearstained cheeks. He closed his eyes as he sniffed again, and when he opened them back up, he froze.

No one was judging him or walking away. They just held him. Sokka felt about ready to break down and cry again when his friends buried him in a hug; Katara at the forefront of it and clinging to him like she thought he would fade away. He slowly lifted his arms, holding them back the best he could.

Zuko was right. He was scared. He was _so fucking scared_ , but it hurt a little less knowing his friends were there for him.


	21. Always (2) - [Hakoda & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, implied/referenced self-harm, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** how do you think [sokka's] dad found out [about his scars]? [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/632911974059114496/oh-ouch-that-oneshot-abt-his-scars-that-hurt-man)]
> 
>  **word count:** 557

“Hey, Sokka, you in there, bud? Bato and I were about to get started on the— hey.”

Hakoda froze in the entrance, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw his son. He expected Sokka to be working on his plans or his doodles but that wasn’t what he was doing at all. No, instead, he was wrapping a length of cloth around a fresh, bright red wound on his arm, unmistakably from a blade. Hakoda took a step forward.

“You all right?” he asked. Sokka barely looked up, only shrugging as he continued to wrap the fabric around his forearm. “Training accident? That looks pretty bad. You want me to grab Katara for you?”

“No!” Sokka lifted his head quickly, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he shook his head. He turned back down to his arm within seconds, his tone too frantic and too uncomfortable when he went on. Something was wrong. “It’s fine, Dad. It’s not a big deal. I was sharpening my knife and I nicked myself. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” He took a step forward, kneeling down beside his son. Sokka pulled away, shifting so his back was facing his dad. “Let me take a look at that. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just want to make sure it’s not too deep.”

“It’s not, it’s fine.”

“Sokka—”

“No, stop! Don’t touch me!”

The moment Hakoda reached out for Sokka’s shoulder, he ripped away; his fingers gripping around the cloth in his hands. His chest rose and fell intensely, a single tear escaping his eyes when Hakoda’s gaze shifted to his wound. It wasn’t an accident. It was a series of small, straight, _deliberate_ lines and the second Hakoda saw them, his heart dropped into his stomach.

“Hey. It’s okay.” A soft, shaking exhale escaped Sokka’s lips as he shook his head, shifting away again. Hakoda slowly reached out to his arm, gentle nudging his son and urging him to turn around. When he did, he said nothing, only falling into his dad’s arms and pressing his head against the crook of his shoulder. “Deep breath, all right? You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m not mad at you or upset or disappointed, I’m just worried. You know we care about you, Sokka. I know it’s hard, but you mean so, so much to us. You just have to tell us what’s going on, okay? I want to help you. Please let me help you.”

“I don’t know,” Sokka choked out, his hands lifting to cling to his dad. “Ever since the war it just… it _hurts_. Everything hurts and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t want to be. It just happened and then it happened again, and I didn’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to stop.”

“It’s okay.” Hakoda lifted his arm to pull Sokka in closer to him, taking his own deep breath when he felt the tears sinking into his shirt. “I’m going to help you through this. I promise. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here for you. Always.”

Sokka only nodded. At that point, Hakoda didn’t know whether he was trying harder to reassure himself or his son, but it didn’t matter. He meant every word he said.


	22. Pause and Reset - [Aang & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, anxiety attacks, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** What if it’s just [Aang and Sokka] at a random political event and something triggers Sokka. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/633103667755646976/ok-seeing-that-post-of-sokka-and-aang-being-best)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,178

“…and I brought my friend Sokka along to help with the plans. He _really_ good at inventing things, and…”

Sokka’s heart pounded in his chest. There was no reason for him to be panicking. He’d helped Aang out with a thousand things since the end of the war but for some reason, this one felt different. He swallowed hard, twisting his hands around his legs, and tapping them against the fabric of his pants.

“…going to be a huge asset to the team here. He actually helped to invent both the submarine and the hot air balloon when he was only fifteen, and since then…”

He should have been listening to everything Aang was saying about him, smiling and thanking his friend for the words of encouragement, but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the table in front of him, willing his stomach to settle down before he expelled its contents across the table. He didn’t want to tarnish his reputation before it even existed.

“…so, without further ado, Sokka!”

Aang beamed when he gestured his hands over to Sokka, giving him his entrance to speak. For weeks, Sokka had been preparing his speech but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in him to say so much as he first word. He opened and closed his mouth, staring at the table of politicians in utter silence. He gripped his fingers around his pantleg, willing the fidgeting to stop.

It wasn’t the anxiety in his chest or the sweating of his palms that tipped Sokka over the edge, it was the way one particular man at the table looked at him. Like he was pathetic. A failure. Something to be mocked and ridiculed because the Avatar brought him across the world, and he couldn’t even open his damn mouth.

“I, uh…” Sokka ran out of breath within moments of trying to speak, his heart pounding so fast he thought it might jump right out of his chest. “A lot of reluctance is— is based around a fear of— a fear of change, and I think that we could— if we base our inventions around— around tradition, we could— I’m sorry.”

Sokka shoved his chair back suddenly, one hand flying up to his chest as he all but ran away from the table. He couldn’t breathe. There were a lot of thoughts running through his mind but the overwhelming one, the one that stopped him from focusing on how utterly embarrassing that was and how much of a failure he’d proven himself to be, was the _pain_ as he struggled to cease his hyperventilating.

The moment he felt like he was alone, safe, Sokka slid down against the wall, his hands sliding onto the sides of his head and gripping onto the few strands of hair that managed to escape his wolftail. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing his torso to stop rising and falling so heavily, but unable to regain the control he so desperately desired.

“Sokka?”

He heard Aang’s voice, but he couldn’t react to it, his breathing too stunted and his heart burning worse with each thump. His head was _pounding_ from how overwhelming the situation was, and the way he nearly yanked his hair out of his head wasn’t helping. Sokka pushed his hands over his eyes, trying to brush away what he was sure was only sweat.

“Sokka, are you okay?” One hand pressed down against his shoulder in a motion to reassuring to be real. Sokka forced a nod, unable to even choke out any words through his gasping breaths. “Can you try to take a deep breath for me? Sokka. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

It hurt. His lungs ached from the hyperventilating and pushing the air through slower didn’t help. Not at first. But then he caught on to the gentle pattern of Aang’s breathing and it got a little easier. Hurt a little less. Sokka still couldn’t get himself to open his eyes, to shift himself from his small, defensive stance, but he no longer felt like death.

“Try to relax your body. Here.”

Aang’s fingers were warm when they gripped around Sokka’s carefully pulling his hands away from his head. He gently urged his friend to release his grip and slowly, Sokka did. A quick nudge to his knees was all it took for him to understand he was meant to relax his legs too, though it took a little more for him to realize that Aang wanted him to copy his stance.

They sat back against the wall beside each other, backs straight and legs crossed in front of them. Aang slowly shifted Sokka’s wrists to rest on his knees, his hands open and small spaces separating his fingers. Once they were both in position, Aang resumed his deep, exaggerated breathing—in through his nose, out through his mouth—and Sokka did his best to follow.

It was hard to get into the rhythm of it at first, but after a few moments of deep breathing with his eyes closed, Sokka was finally able to relax. His heart was still beating a little too fast, his entire body still felt a little too warm, but he felt okay. He felt like he was in control again, not crumbling beneath the weight of his panic attack.

“Feel a little better?” asked Aang, when Sokka’s breathing was finally at a level that no longer interfered with their speech. Sokka only nodded, still not quite ready to talk. “After I found out I was the Avatar, I used to get really upset sometimes. That’s how Monk Gyatso would help me calm down. It’s almost like meditating but relaxing your whole body and leaving your mind active to welcome the positive thoughts. When you’re overwhelmed, you just pause and reset. Then you can move on.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about meditating,” Sokka admitted, his voice hoarse, “but that really helped a lot. Thanks, Aang.”

“Of course, Sokka. And hey, if you don’t feel like you can go back in there—”

“I want to. I really, really want to try but there were _so many people_ staring at me.”

“Okay.” Aang paused thoughtfully, staring down at the floor in front of him before turning back to look at Sokka. “You know, there’s really only one guy in there who’s involved in the invention stuff. Why don’t you just talk to him? It would probably be easier if you two just had a conversation anyway.”

Sokka couldn’t keep the relieved smile from his face. “Thank you, Aang. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry that I—”

“Nope. No apologies.”

“What?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. No apologies.” He leapt up to his feet suddenly, holding out a hand to Sokka, who hesitated to take it. “Come on, Sokka. You’re going to do great. I don’t know _anyone_ who knows more about this stuff than you do.”

Meditation had to have side-effects, Sokka decided, because never before could he remember initiating a hug like that.


	23. Please Don't Fall Asleep - [Sokka/Zuko, Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** angst, established relationship, major character death
> 
>  **prompt:** Fic where Zuko dies In either Iroh’s or Sokka’s arms? (With a sprinkle of angst and Zukka?) [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/633232905922084865/fic-where-zuko-dies-in-either-irohs-or-sokkas)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,085

“Open your eyes.”

Everything hurt. He couldn’t remember what happened, nor closing his eyes in the first place, just the searing pain in his stomach and the strong arms around his back. Someone was holding him, and there was a third hand gripped around his arm, but he didn’t know who it was. He couldn’t open his eyes and he couldn’t even think through the pain.

“Zuko, please, you have to open your eyes.”

The voice was on the brink of tears, choking back sobs with every word. Zuko tried to do what he was told, to respond to the hand on his cheek and the thumb stroking the edge of his scar, but he couldn’t. He let out a painful whimper, shifting into the arms of the person holding him. Their arms were warm, and their breath smelled like tea. He liked tea.

“Please, you have to hold on, you got to stay awake until Katara gets here.”

Katara. That reconnected something in his brain. He remembered Katara and he remembered that the voice talking to him sounded a lot like hers. Sokka. Sokka was sitting next to him, one hand on his arm and the other wrapped around Zuko’s own. His fingers were soft and gentle. Zuko loved holding his hand. He should have said that when he could still speak.

“Just open your eyes, Zuko, please. Please don’t fall asleep.”

His stomach was sticky. There was a hand resting on it, a strong, warm hand, and it felt like a piece of cloth, but it didn’t stop the stickiness. It didn’t stop the hurting. All Zuko wanted was to do the opposite of what he was told. To close his eyes and take a nap and try to sleep the pain away. But the people beside him were begging him to stay awake, so he tried a little harder.

“Hey, there you go. Hey.” Sokka’s voice was scared and shaking, one hand immediately lifting up to his cheek and the other clinging to his hand. A tear rolled down his cheek when Zuko finally opened his eyes, though everything was blurry, and it was a struggle to see more than their outlines. “Just stay with us please, okay? Don’t close your eyes again.”

“Tired.” Even with only one word, it was easy to tell that his speech was thick and slurred, but he couldn’t get himself to do any better. He nuzzled deeper into the warm shoulder, his stomach stinging when he moved. “Hurth.”

“It’s going to be okay, my nephew.” Uncle. He was the one holding Zuko in his arms, supporting him and trying his best to keep him comfortable. Not that it helped. Everything hurt and his torso was still sticky. It was _so sticky_. “Just try to breathe, okay? You have to keep breathing.”

All he could do was shake his head. His chest ached too much to speak more and he knew that every word he said would only come out stunted and hoarse regardless. He tried to give Sokka’s hand a squeeze, to try and relieve some of the pain, but it didn’t help. He didn’t have enough energy to channel his pain anywhere else. His eyes began to drift closed again.

“No, no, no, Zuko. Come on. Please.” Sokka tapped his cheek, another tear rolling down his own as he pleaded with Zuko for him to open his eyes. He barely managed it. “I know you’re really tired, but you need to stay awake for us. Please. Please don’t fall asleep.”

“Thorry,” Zuko mumbled, his eyes already beginning to shut again. His uncle pushed the loose hairs out of his face, and that kicked just enough attention into him to try again. He looked straight into Sokka’s gaze. “Love you, penguin.”

The sound that came out of Sokka’s mouth was almost inhumane. Contrary to what he was telling Zuko, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, tears spilling out of each of them and rolling down his already wet cheeks. He shook his head slowly, squeezing Zuko’s hand even tighter; almost as if he were afraid he might let go.

“I love you too, turtleduck.”

Zuko’s eyes were closed again but he felt it when Sokka pressed his lips to the top of his head. The gentlest touch he’d ever felt. The perfect kiss. So sweet, kind, it made him want to hold on even though it hurt so badly, and his stomach was so sticky. Why was he so sticky? He tried to lift his head, to pull away from his uncle’s shoulder, but it ached too much to move.

Neither Sokka nor Uncle Iroh seemed to know what to say after that, and focused their energy on tapping his face, squeezing his hand, and whispering careful reminders when he started to drift to sleep. He needed a nap. That was what he really wanted. To go back to his room and take a bath because he was too sticky and then he could lie down and go to sleep for as long as he needed.

“Wanna nap.” Zuko coughed after he spoke that time and the pressure on his chest was one of the most painful sensations he’d ever felt. It was by his ribs, whatever it was, and it hurt so _bad_. “Tired.”

“I know, but you have to stay awake.” There was something strange in Sokka’s tone. A level of fear that Zuko couldn’t remember hearing before. He didn’t like it. He wanted to give his husband a big hug, but he couldn’t move. It hurt too much. “Please stay awake.”

“After K—Katara geth here, can you thnuggle with me? And Uncle can— he can make uth thome tea?”

“Yeah.” A sob escaped Sokka’s lips as he nodded, and Zuko’s urge to make him feel better grew tenfold. “Of course, I will. I always be here to snuggle with you, okay?”

“And I will make you all the tea in the world,” said Iroh. His tone was sad too. Something was wrong. Zuko couldn’t remember what it was. Just the sad and the hurt and the pain. “I love you, Zuko. So much. And I am so, so proud of you for what you’ve accomplished.”

“Love you too, Uncle,” was all he managed to say in response.

He tried his best, but he was too tired. Too sticky. Everything hurt so badly and one moment, he was clinging to Sokka’s hand, nuzzled back into his uncle’s shoulder. The next, he was gone.


	24. Disrespect - [Ozai & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-canon, implied/referenced child abuse, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“What is your name?”

_Please don’t make me say it._

“Tell him. Introduce yourself.”

_I can’t do it._

“Don’t be disrespectful.”

_Stop. Don’t cry. He’ll hurt you._

“P— Pri— Prin—”

 _I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it_.

“I didn’t raise a stutterer.”

_No, you raised worse._

“Say your name.”

 _You’ll burn me if I do_.

“Pri— Printhe—”

_I know you’re going to hurt me._

“Without the affectation.”

_I don’t know how to stop._

“My name ith— _is_ Prin—”

 _Quit staring at me_.

“Printhe Thuko.”

_You said it wrong._

“Go to your room.”

_Await your punishment._


	25. Say Your Name - [Ozai & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-canon, child abuse, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 499

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Zuko shoved the playbook behind his back, his heart pounding. His chest was rising and falling too heavily, and he knew that it was obvious he was hiding something. He bit down on his lip hard, willing the tears to go away.

“I wa— _was_ ju— _just_ —” The way his father stared at him made Zuko want to hurl. “Working on my leth— le _th_ —”

He couldn’t do it. The last word wouldn’t come out right, and it broke him. Ozai stepped forward suddenly, grabbing onto Zuko’s arms and forcing him to reveal what he was holding. He laughed when he saw the book, waving it in his hand as he shook his head, a smirk still on his face.

“Pathetic,” he sneered, releasing his grip on his son. Zuko let out a puff of air, the tears returning when he saw the pink marks his father left behind. “You can’t even say your own name and you think you could be an _actor_?”

“I can thay my own name.”

It was the wrong thing to say. The moment Zuko spoke, Ozai gave him a look, glancing down at the book in his hand. It was a lie. It was a lie, and he was going to be punished for it. The handprints on his arms hurt but they were nothing compared to what was inevitably about to come.

“Then say it.” Ozai’s tone was flat but aggressive and painful on Zuko’s ears. He chewed on his lip again, barely registering the taste of blood as he clenched his hands into fists. “Say your name _correctly_ and I will not burn this book.”

“Pri— Printh— Prin _ce_ —” It was his mother’s book. It was his mother’s book, and it was going to be ruined forever because he wasn’t good enough. “Prince— Prince Thuko.”

The look in his eyes was nothing less than terrifying. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, pleathe!”

Zuko launched forward when Ozai’s fingertips sparked, but there was nothing he could do. His attempt to fight back only got himself burned too and within seconds, his father was gone, and the book was nothing more than a pile of ash.

He dragged his knees into his chest, shoving his head down between them. It was his fault. It was her favorite book, his favorite book, and it was gone forever because he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t good enough. He was supposed to be a prince and he couldn’t even say the word.

“Zuzu?” Great, that was what he needed. Another person to remind him just how pathetic he was. He refused to lift his head, even when he heard Azula walk over and kneel down beside him. Letting her see his tears would only make it worse. “Did he hurt you again?”

The hand on his shoulder convinced him to nod, but the burns on his arms didn’t hurt half as much as the pile of ash on the floor.


	26. Caring For Him - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** a lot of times with adhd,, people hyperfocus and they can be so focused they forget to eat and do basic self care,,,maybe when sokkas working on a project or stressed with work hes working all day and into the night,,, and zuko realizes sokka hasnt come to make sure zukos eating and he just quietly makes them a tray of food and goes to check up on sokka and eat a little dinner with him,,, mayhaps,, [via [@spookiestarts](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/633783376994861056/a-lot-of-times-with-adhd-people-hyperfocus-and)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,112

Sokka always came to check on Zuko.

At that point, it wasn’t even so much about making sure he was okay, it was just another part of their routine. Sometime in the evening, Sokka would inevitably knock on Zuko’s door and ask whether he had dinner yet. And every night, Zuko would shake his head and go with his husband to get something to eat. But he didn’t come that day.

It was weird for Sokka to abandon his schedules. Not just weird, but entirely unnatural. Sokka’s schedules meant more to him than anything in the world and losing those meant losing the one thing he could _always_ control. For Zuko, schedules weren’t that important, and he constantly went off the rails changing things, but even he began to feel uneasy when Sokka failed to show up at his door.

Admittedly, it took him longer than it should’ve to realize that Sokka hadn’t come by. Zuko tended to lose track of time when he was deep into his work and that was exactly what happened. It wasn’t until he looked up to the window behind his desk and saw how late it was that he finally realized Sokka had never come to get him for dinner. And, in fact, he couldn’t remember having seen him all day.

He sighed and rose from his seat in front of the table, carefully packing up his things before turning to leave the room. Rather than going straight to see his husband, Zuko stopped in the kitchens, preparing a quick tray of their favorite snacks. It was a mixed pack of their respective cultures, including ash banana bread, seal jerky, and a steaming pot of tea because Zuko could never eat without it.

Just a few minutes after coming in, Zuko left the kitchens and gently strode over to Sokka’s room, knocking on the door as he slowed to a stop in the halls. There was no answer from inside, and so he pushed it open anyway, holding his tray in one hand. In all honesty, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Sokka still seated at his desk, scribbling away at something in front of him, but he couldn’t stop himself from being concerned either.

“Hey.” Zuko gently placed the tray on the floor beside Sokka’s desk before kneeling down behind him and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Not for one moment did Sokka’s fingers cease their movement, though he definitely registered Zuko’s presence when he slid his hands down to massage his shoulders. “You didn’t come and get me for dinner.”

“Is it that late already?” His tone sounded tired and disappointed in himself, and Zuko gave his temple a kiss in the hopes it would make him feel better. Sokka leaned back a little into his grasp, still staring at the work in front of him. “I’m sorry. I was working on these plans for the council but halfway through I realized I got lost on a tangent and I had to start the whole thing over again, so I’ve been trying to tweak it to a point where it’s usable again, but I can’t figure out how to—”

It wasn’t Sokka who cut himself off, but Zuko, gently stroking his chin and nudging his head to turn before he pressed their lips together. The moment didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it seemed to help Sokka break free of his hyperfocused mindset and encouraged him to fully sink back into his husband’s embrace. Zuko slid his arms around Sokka’s stomach, taking a deep breath and holding him close.

“I brought you something to eat,” he whispered, smiling when Sokka slid a hand on top of his.

“That’s my job,” said Sokka, his tone mostly joking but laced with a faint thread of guilt. “You shouldn’t have to look after me.”

“You shouldn’t have to look after me either.”

“I want to look after you.”

“You want to look after everybody.” That was apparently a line that Sokka could not argue with because he didn’t have a comeback. He only let out a sigh and nuzzled back into Zuko’s shoulder, his growing wolftail tickling the edge of Zuko’s jawline. “Come on. Let’s have something to eat and then I’ll help you finish that, okay?”

Sokka hesitated but rolled out of Zuko’s grasp, turning around to face the tray of food he’d brought. He picked at some of the kale cookies, and Zuko smiled when he mumbled his thanks. Neither of them said another word for a few minutes, both nibbling away at their mediocre excuse for a meal, but they didn’t need to. The company was good enough.

“So, thank you for the offer,” Sokka told him suddenly, breaking another cookie apart in his hands, “but I don’t think you’re going to be able to help me with this. Not unless you learned a lot about engineering very quickly.”

“Ha, yeah, okay.” Zuko pinched another hand of fire flakes, shaking his head slowly. He popped them into his mouth, giving Sokka a look before he went on. “I might not know anything about engineering but I will have you know I am an _expert_ in the field of listening to my beautiful husband talk about the things he cares about and whether it’s helpful or not, I am very happy to be here for support.”

The smile on Sokka’s face was too beautiful for this world. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he shifted onto the floor, sliding closer to Zuko, and resting his head in his lap. Zuko’s own lip curled upward as he reached down to slide out Sokka’s hair tie, gently running his fingers through his hair. Sokka closed his eyes after a minute and for a bit, Zuko thought he’d fallen asleep, but he was wrong.

Sokka turned when he opened his eyes, reaching one hand up to grasp onto Zuko’s. He laced their fingers together, pulling Zuko’s down to kiss the back of his hand and play with his fingers. Zuko leaned forward to kiss Sokka’s head again too, just for good measure, as he wanted to be sure that his husband was getting every bit of the affection he deserved.

“Thank you,” said Sokka, his voice soft and his words growing quieter with each passing second.

“For what?” Zuko slid Sokka’s hair back behind his ears, carefully stroking the edge of his jawline.

“For being here.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes again as he gave Zuko’s hand a squeeze and settled deeper into his grasp. “I love you, Jerk Lord.”

“Love you too, Penguin.”


	27. Let Me Help - [Sokka/Suki]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, chronic pain, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** what about modern au or regular Sokka just like trying to keep up his usual personality but he’s just really having a bad bad day from either his leg, trauma, or anything and.... someone helps [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/633874050441199616/i-cant-decide-but-what-about-modern-au-or)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,185

It was stupid how much it hurt.

Sokka knew it was only a dream. It was a dream, and it wasn’t real and there was no reason for him to be upset but he was. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he just kept dragging himself through the day, acting like everything was okay when it wasn’t. When his heart pounded every time someone stepped up behind him and tears threatened to spring from his eyes whenever Katara mentioned their home.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Logically, he knew he should’ve gotten over it by that point. The raid happened when he was ten. The war ended when he was fifteen. It was all long gone, it was over, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. Sometimes, he just had those awful dreams and whenever he did, he woke up feeling like he’d just gone through it all over again. It didn’t help that his leg decided to act up that day.

“I’m fine,” said Sokka, adjusting his arm around Suki’s shoulders. He didn’t know what gave it away, but he didn’t want her to have to worry about him at all. “Just thinking about the punchline to my newest joke. This one is going to knock your socks right out the window.”

“Oh, okay.” Suki laughed a little, and he was glad. He convinced her. “It just seemed like you were doing your fidgety thing and I was worried you were having bad dreams again.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not leaning on me for support right now?”

Sokka froze. He liked holding Suki close to him but in all honesty, the reason he wrapped an arm around her was because of his limp. If there was one thing Sokka hated more than the nightmares, it was making other people feel like they had to look after him. He was fine. He was really, truly fine and the fact that people thought he wasn’t, or he couldn’t handle himself was too much. He was okay. Everything was okay.

“It’s _fine_ , Suki,” he insisted, awkwardly sliding his arm away from her. He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t do it and it was obvious. “You don’t have to be worried about me all the time. Hey, did you finish that project for chem—?”

“Don’t you dare change the subject on me.” Suki reached out to Sokka, desperately trying to support him, but he shifted away, resuming his stride down the sidewalk. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to act like you’re fine, but you’re not. You’re not fine.”

“Yes, I am. The only reason I wouldn’t be fine would be because you’re pushing me. Seriously, I’m okay. I’m just working on my jokes. What do you think is better, a pun or an ironic ending?”

“How about letting me help you because you look like you’re about to fall over?”

“No. Suki, _no._ ” He ripped his arm away when Suki reached out for him again, stumbling back from her toward the grass. Apparently, she didn’t get the memo, because she stepped forward again; slowly, gently, but still reaching to help. “Just stop, okay? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Sokka!” cried Suki, her tone almost scared. “Stop saying that! Just let me help you, _please_.”

“I don’t need help, I’m fine. Stop. Suki, I’m fine. I’m—”

It wasn’t him who gave up the fight but his leg, suddenly caving beneath his weight. Suki launched forward before he could fall, catching him under his arms and lowering him down to the grass. Sokka’s chest rose and fell so heavily it hurt, the tears building in his eyes in a way he couldn’t control. He stared at her in silence, shifting away when she tried to hold him.

He was pathetic. He was absolutely pathetic. Suki had been through so much in her life, she shouldn’t have had to look after him. But she did. She did because he was stupid and weak and instead of taking care of himself, he was sitting in the grass on the side of the road; his leg _throbbing_ and tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to cope with the pain and disappointment in himself and his failure.

“Sokka, it’s okay.” At that point, Sokka was already so out of it that he didn’t realize how much he was panicking. His chest was tight, his throat was dry, and his mind was so panicked, he couldn’t even think. Suki placed a hand to his cheek, her thumb gently pushing away some of his tears. “Take a deep breath, okay? No one is upset with you.”

Though he wanted to argue that they were because _he_ was, Sokka couldn’t do more than nod. Suki wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into her grasp and sliding a hand on the back of his head. Her touch was gentle and comforting but his chest still ached. Not just from his uneven breaths but the guilt twisting in his stomach as he realized Suki was doing exactly what he didn’t want her to have to.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka mumbled, his arms reaching up to hold her back. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.”

“I’m not taking care of you,” said Suki, her fingers stroking the edges of his hair. “I’m just making sure that you’re all right. It’s okay. I know you would do the same thing for me.”

“But you’re _strong_. You’re strong and I’m just—”

“No. I’m not any stronger than you are. I’m just having a better day. Hey. Sokka.” She slid her thumbs across his jawline, encouraging him to meet her eyes. It was hard, looking up when he knew how badly bloodshot they must be, but he did it, and the little kiss on his cheekbone helped. “You’re okay. You’re okay and you’re strong and I know you have a really hard time believing it but it’s okay to break down sometimes. It’s okay if you don’t feel okay.”

It was hard to believe but somehow, Sokka managed to make himself nod. His fingers twisted around the back of Suki’s shirt as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, closing his eyes and doing his best to take deep breaths. Her heartbeat was a little fast, but it was soft and steady and it helped him feel better. She helped him feel better.

“Hey.” Suki hugged him a little closer, her voice low and her breath warm on his ear. “Is it all right if I help you walk the rest of the way home? And then we can sit in your bed and watch movies and I can get you some hot towels for your leg?”

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and still choked with repressed sobs, but he tried. “That sounds good.”

“Okay.” She slid back, pressing a kiss to his forehead before rising to her feet and holding out a hand to help him stand. “Love you, dork.”

Sokka let a little smile on his face as he reached out for her hand. “Love you too, beautiful.”


	28. Out in the Cold - [Sokka/Yue]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** northern water tribe, pre-relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 895

From the first time they met, Yue knew that Sokka was an utter goofball.

He had a beautiful smile, a quirky sense of humor, and the most ridiculous, overdramatic gestures she’d ever seen. His stories were out of this world, his company perfect, and his socials skills lacking but charming in a way that made Yue fall for him faster than she’d ever fallen for anyone before. He was sweet and goofy and so wonderful to be around and that was why she knew right away when something was wrong.

Sokka was sitting on the edge of the water, his legs dangling over the edge and his heels kicking back against the ice. His gaze was pointed far down below him, his fingers ungloved and twisting around each other in an almost anxious motion. Admittedly, Yue hadn’t known him for that long, so she wasn’t sure whether it was okay for her to approach him, but she did it anyway.

At first, Yue said nothing. She only sat down beside him, gently placing a hand on his knee, and smiling in a way she hoped was reassuring. Sokka turned to her and smiled back and for a moment, she wondered whether she was reading the situation wrong. Then he let out a breath and turned back to the water and she knew that she was right. She didn’t know what it was, but something was definitely not right.

“Hey.” Again, Sokka smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He barely looked away from the water, his feet continuing to swing against the ledge. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded quickly, though his tone didn’t nearly match the enthusiasm of his movements. “Yeah, it’s all good. I was just watching Aang and Katara train and… I don’t know. I felt like I needed some air.”

It was that tone which tipped her off. That tone which Sokka only used in the briefest moments of his stories. When he recounted something he wasn’t proud of or a moment he wished he could redo. Yue reached out for his hand, partially because he was shivering badly and she wanted to warm him up, but also because he needed the reassuring squeeze. Sokka held her back, though he didn’t say another word.

“Do you want some company?” she asked, her tone soft. She wanted to be there for him, but not if he wasn’t comfortable with it. It took a moment, but Sokka nodded, using his free hand to tug a stray hair behind his ear. “You should put your gloves on. You might get frostbite.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sokka shrugged, sniffing as he turned his gaze to watch his feet. Yue hoped it was only because of the cold. “I’m used to it. Leaving my fingers out in the cold. Me being left out in the cold.”

Yue squeezed his hand again, her heart dropping into her stomach. That was what it was about. Being left out. Alone. It was something Yue picked up on in his stories many times before. That he was afraid he wasn’t good enough or strong enough and that his friends might leave him behind. He never said those words, but he said enough for Yue to piece it together. She gave his hand another squeeze.

“It’s okay to be upset sometimes,” she told him. For a moment, Sokka said nothing. Then he shook his head, reaching up to chew on his thumbnail, and Yue’s heart sank even further. “I know that there isn’t much for you to do around here while they’re learning to waterbend but that doesn’t mean you’re not special. They care about you just as much.”

“Maybe.” His tone was dejected, his eyes flickering in a way that either meant his lids were filling with snow or tears. “I guess I just feel like I’m bringing them down sometimes, you know? Like, they have all these important things to do and I just… don’t. I’m just the idiot who tagged along with them.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“You haven’t known me that long.”

It wasn’t the way he spoke but the look in his eyes that broke her heart. Sokka sounded so certain, so factual, like he _knew_ that if Yue got to know him better, she wouldn’t like him anymore. On the contrary, _she_ knew that couldn’t be true. That Sokka was every bit as wonderful as she thought he was, and no lack of self-confidence could ever change that.

Yue placed her other hand on top of his, gently nudging him to look up to meet her gaze. It took a long moment, but slowly, Sokka turned his head; his slightly bloodshot eyes staring into hers. Yue leaned forward, squeezing his hand tightly as she pressed their foreheads together. Sokka’s breath started to even out, his chest rising and falling slowly as the swirls floated through the air.

“I’ve known you long enough,” said Yue quietly. Sokka didn’t respond, and she let out a soft sigh. “Maybe I don’t know you that well yet, but I know that you’re funny and sweet and charming and there is no one else I would rather be sitting here with.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be sitting with either.”

His voice still sounded sad, but the smile tugging at his lip was a sign for the better.


	29. There's Not Always a Reason - [Hakoda & Sokka, Sokka & the Gaang]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** What if Sokka just kept things to himself and let it keep building and building and building until he has this massive break. Confusion of all these feelings coming up, regret guilt shame and more and it’s just super tough, and like everyone is so shocked because it’s probably the worst thing that has happened to him, it’s just mega angst with Sokka. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634005262172340225/what-if-sokka-just-kept-things-to-himself-and-let)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,226

The thing no one tells you about repression is that your mind can only take so much.

For years, Sokka was perfectly content with ignoring things the way he was. He acted like nothing was wrong, shoved away the bad thoughts, and fought to keep himself as holder of the title of “funny guy”. He was great. Fine. Yes, there were a lot of problems in his past and a lot of trauma and struggle, but he overcame it. He got through it without any outside help and it was good. He was good.

Until someone told him that he wasn’t and suddenly, everything hurt, and he couldn’t explain why.

It was a stupid comment, and it shouldn’t have upset him, but it did. He didn’t even know who called the words, who shouted out from the crowd that he was pathetic and unfit to be standing on the stage, but he heard it and it hurt. It hurt worse than anything before and suddenly, instead of being only a little anxious, he was frozen in his spot and unable to do anything but turn and run away.

“Hey, you okay?”

Sokka nodded quickly, not stopping to properly speak to his dad. He couldn’t. His heart was racing, and he knew that if he tried to say anything, it wouldn’t come out as more than a squeak. He pushed past him through the crowd, trying to get somewhere he could be alone. Sokka ended up sliding down in an alley between two nearby buildings, his hands on either side of his head as he struggled to take deep breaths.

It didn’t make sense. Yes, what that guy said was cruel and uncalled for, but it shouldn’t have made him freak out like that. He should’ve stayed for his speech but instead, he was huddled behind the building he was meant to be in front of because he couldn’t even _breathe_. His lungs burned as he tried to get himself under control, to keep himself from utterly breaking before anyone saw him.

It was too late.

“Take a deep breath.” Sokka shook his head, shoving the arms away from him. He knew he would regret it, that he was hurting someone who only wanted to help, but he couldn’t accept it. He didn’t want the help. “Sokka, it’s okay. Just breathe. You’re okay. you’re safe.”

“ _No_.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter when the second person entered the picture, trying to place a hand on his shoulder. The guilt churned in his stomach and he wanted to take it all back, but he couldn’t. He just kept shoving them away, his chest pounding harder by the second. “ _Stop_. I don’t want you to help me. I don’t deserve you helping me.”

Every word was hoarse, scratchy, and choked with sobs, but he couldn’t stop it. He wanted to be better, to be the person he was supposed to be, but he _couldn’t_. Everything hurt and he wanted to stop it, but he didn’t even know what ‘it’ was. Yes, he was disappointed in himself. Yes, he thought that what the person said to him was probably right, but _that wasn’t it_.

“Hey, hey, hey, back up. All of you.” It was Hakoda’s gentle voice that apparently nudged the other—or other _s_ —away, kneeling down in front of his son. Sokka wanted to reach out to him, to crawl into his arms and let it all out, but he couldn’t because _he_ _didn’t know what it was_. “Sokka, it’s okay. You’re okay. That guy has no idea what he’s talking about. He’s probably one of those Ozai supporters that Zuko was telling us about.”

“No, it’s not about him.” Sokka’s voice cracked again, his sobs more prevalent than any single syllable. He took a wheezing breath, unable to deepen it to any sort of helpful level. “I know he’s wrong and he doesn’t know me, but I was already failing on that stage and I— it’s not about him.”

“Then what is it about.”

“ _I don’t know_.”

He opened his eyes just long enough to see his entire group of friends huddled on the other end of the alley. Of course, he couldn’t just let one person see that he was literally falling apart, _everyone_ had to see it. He kicked away when his dad tried to hug him again. He didn’t deserve the comfort. He didn’t deserve to be hugged when he already failed everyone. But failed them at _what_?

“I just feel so, so _stupid_ ,” Sokka went on, almost choking on his words. He finally slid his hands down from his head, each finger shaking badly as he rested them against his knees. “I’m not good enough. I just keep letting everyone down over and over again and I can’t—”

“Sokka. Deep breath.” Somehow, Hakoda almost got through to him, and he at least gave it a try before shaking his head and giving up again. Finally, he let the strong arms wrap around his shoulder, allowing his eyes to flutter open but focus on the ground instead of his concerned friends. “Let’s just take it one thing at a time, okay? What’s bothering you right now? Right in this moment?”

“I don’t know.” He sounded like a baby and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out that way. Sokka slid his arms around his dad too, burying his head in his shoulder as he tried desperately to stop the pain. “I hate this. I— I just want to be strong again.”

“You’re still strong.” It wasn’t his dad who spoke, but Suki. He couldn’t turn his gaze to look at her. “Nothing you do will ever change that. Not in our eyes.”

“She’s right, Sokka. Hey.” Katara was the next one to kneel beside him and quite honestly, the only other one he wouldn’t have pushed away. She’d seen him in bad places before, and the hand on his shoulder was almost reassuring. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” He felt so stupid saying it, but he didn’t know what else to do. Everything hurt and he felt like lying would only make it even worse. “I was standing in front of all of those people and that guy insulted me and I just— I just _broke_ and I don’t know why. I don’t— before I just felt like _nothing_ and I was okay with that I was— I was fine being numb but now it _hurts,_ and I can’t—”

Hakoda pulled him closer. “How long have you felt like that for?”

“I—” Sokka cut himself off, not sure whether he should share the whole answer. “Since the war, I guess. I mean, people— people _died_ because of me. People are dead because _I_ killed them. Because _I_ couldn’t save them, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on from that. How I’m supposed to move on from the fact I’m a failure at _everything_.”

“You are not a failure at anything. Hey. Breathe. Please.” He slid a hand over Sokka’s face, pushing back loose hairs and fresh tears. “You don’t have to try and explain anything right now, okay? Just work on taking deep breaths. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Sokka only nodded. He couldn’t find any more words.


	30. Out - [Jin & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** ba sing se, coming out, light angst
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 550

“I’m gay.”

Judging by the look on her face, the only reasonable explanation for an outsider would be to say that Jin had seen a ghost. Her eyes went wide as she took a step back, pulling away from the kiss that didn’t quite happen.

“What?” She didn’t necessarily sound _bothered_ , just confused. “Lee—”

“Men.” It was stupid. The dumbest, most awkward way he could have possibly begun to explain himself. “I like— I like men.”

“Yeah, I got that, thank you, but—”

“Sorry.” His heart was racing too fast. The first time he said anything to anyone, and he said it in the middle of the homophobia capital of the world. Okay, that was an exaggeration. The Fire Nation was easily worse but that didn’t make the Earth Kingdom any better. “I— I have to go.”

Zuko turned away quickly, struggling to catch his breath as he turned to walk away down the path. It was bad. It was really, really bad. They’d already almost been busted for being firebenders, and now he was going to get them arrested because of his stupid big mouth.

The only reason he stopped walking was because he felt a hand on his arm, which was somehow too gentle for him to pull away. Zuko looked back slowly, his eyes wide as he swallowed hard and looked into Jin’s. Her expression was soft. Compassionate. Not half as angry as the first person to suspect.

“I accept you,” said Jin quietly. Zuko blinked, unable to say a word. “Lee. Did you hear me? It’s okay. I don’t hate you and I’m not going to tell anyone else.”

He knew that if he opened his mouth the only thing he could do was threaten her or defend himself, and neither were the right thing. Instead, he bit down on his lip, trying to stop himself from making a terrible decision and changing her mind after her kind declaration.

“But if you’re—? Why did you come on this date with me?” All he could do was look to his feet, begging himself not to make another mistake. “You haven’t told your uncle yet.”

“I haven’t told anyone yet,” Zuko whispered. His mind kept telling him to run. To get out. To defend himself. But he fought back against every one of those instincts. He was fine. Jin was safe. “I shouldn’t have done this to you. It wasn’t right.”

“No, it’s okay. I should have realized when you didn’t respond to any of my flirting.”

“That wasn’t a gay problem, that was a me problem. I’m… not exactly great at the whole social thing.”

“Yeah.” Jin smiled. “I noticed.”

It was the way she mimicked his terrible juggling that finally got him to smile too. The way she joked about their horribly awkward date the whole way back to her home and gave Zuko one more kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand before she left.

Maybe it was a little weird, and maybe it wasn’t how he expected it to happen the first time, but Zuko didn’t regret what happened that night. Okay, maybe he regretted some of his buffoonery, but not the date as a whole. Not meeting Jin.

Not bonding with the only real friend he’d ever have there.


	31. Late Night - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** despite how often sokka stays up late doing homework, zuko refuses to go to bed without him. this continually results in sokka having to write his papers with a completely unconscious zuko on [him]. [via [@tikmasjiens](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634255973936250881/despite-how-often-sokka-stays-up-late-doing)]
> 
>  **word count:** 350

Though he wasn’t surprised in the least, Sokka still jumped a little when he felt the pressure on his leg.

He finished the sentence he was typing before looking down, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw Zuko fast asleep on his lap. Sokka reached a hand down to stroke his hair, turning back to his paper and writing a couple words with his free hand before moving to proofread.

Zuko fell asleep on him a lot. It was Sokka’s fault, really. Since they’d moved in together and Zuko discovered his boyfriend’s ridiculously inconsistent and unhealthy sleep schedule, he refused to go to bed without Sokka. The problem was that he was a _serious_ lightweight, as much as he denied it, and consistently fell asleep right there on the couch.

Of course, that was what happened there again that day. Zuko said he would stay up until Sokka went to bed with him, and within an hour, he drifted on Sokka’s lap; a book still wrapped in his arms. Sokka reached over the back of the couch, gently lifting the blanket across it and draping it over his boyfriend. He stroked Zuko’s hair one more time before leaning down to press a kiss to his head, and that was when Zuko shifted.

“You thould go to thleep,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes as he adjusted himself on Sokka’s leg. “It’th late.”

“I know.” Sokka smiled, sliding a hand down Zuko’s cheek. He dragged a lock of long black hair behind his ear, draping his arm over Zuko’s stomach and reaching his fingers out for his hand. “I’ll go to bed just as soon as I finish this, okay? Go back to sleep.”

“M’kay.” His fingers laced around Sokka’s holding him loosely. “Love you, Thokka.”

Sokka smiled and lifted their fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Zuko’s hand before lowering it back into place beside his stomach. Sure, it was a little harder to finish his paper when one of his hands was lost to his sleepy boyfriend, but it was more than worth it.


	32. The Good Hasn't Gone - [Hakoda & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, confessions, chronic pain, insecurity, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** sokka gets really upset and ends up confessing to someone that he misses the war, and he knows its selfish but back then his friends were all together and know he barely sees anybody and theres so much responsibility that he just. misses the times in the war, and feels guilty sometimes for wishing it never ended despite being so happy it's over [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634328862690574336/ok-but-imagine-sokka-gets-really-upset-and-ends)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,319

“I can’t do it.”

Sokka wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, just mumbling the words to himself as he crossed out his drawing for the umpteenth time and started over yet again. He dragged his inky hands over his face, taking a deep breath and shaking himself off before he started again, sketching for a good five minutes before he stopped.

“I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.”

He didn’t need to test his idea to understand that it would never hold. Sokka crumbled the paper in his hands twisting to throw it into the discard pile and wincing when he pulled his leg. Another reason he couldn’t do anything. Even if he got the plans to work, the was almost no chance he would ever be able to help build the new watchtower. It was pointless.

“I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.”

The funny thing was, Sokka knew _exactly_ how bad the negative reinforcement was for his mental state, he just didn’t know how to stop it. He bit down on his lip, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth when he tried again. It still didn’t work. The calculations were off. It didn’t matter how he changed it; it was wrong. It wouldn’t work. It would never work.

“ _I can’t fucking do it_.”

After throwing his brush to the ground, Sokka pressed his hands against his eyes, willing the tears of frustration to stay in. He dragged his knees into his chest, trying his best to calm down though his breathing was far too heavy. He thought he would be okay, that he could take a moment to regroup and get back to work, but he was wrong.

Just his luck, it was right after he threw the brush down that Hakoda walked in. Sokka wanted to insist he was fine when he heard his dad’s quiet greeting, but he couldn’t get any words to come out and only quickly nodded without so much as moving his hands. It hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything hurt. He didn’t resist the hug when his dad knelt down in front of him.

“Hey. Take a big, deep breath. You’re okay.” Hakoda rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, and Sokka tried his best as he nuzzled into his dad’s grasp. It was warm and comfortable, but it didn’t mean anything because he didn’t deserve it. “You all right, Sokka? What happened?”

“I can’t figure out how to build the watchtower,” Sokka mumbled, though that was barely the start of what was wrong. He sniffed, squeezing his fingers around the back of his dad’s coat. “I keep trying but it just gets messed up and I can’t even test it because if I stand up it still hurts too much and that means I can’t help build it even if I _do_ make it work and I feel so guilty because I just keep thinking about the _war_.”

“What?” He only pulled away for a second, but it was long enough for Sokka to register the look on his face. His dad hated him already. “What are you talking about? Are you having nightmares again?”

“No. I mean, yeah, but that’s not— I just— it’s _so stupid_ and bad and selfish because I don’t miss the war, I don’t, but I— I miss my friends. And I miss traveling. And all the weird situations we would get ourselves into. I miss not having all this huge responsibility on my shoulders and I know it’s so dumb to say after everything else I did, and I miss that too, but I don’t think I can do this.”

Hakoda said nothing. He shifted his arms, squeezing them around Sokka’s shoulder and pulling him in for a tighter embrace. Sokka only sniffed, pressing his head against his dad’s chest, and taking another exaggerated breath. He wasn’t mad. It wasn’t easy to tell what he was thinking but the way he still hugged Sokka after the confession said that he wasn’t mad.

“I know it’s not easy,” said Hakoda softly, taking a long, slow breath himself. Sokka tried to copy him. It helped a little bit. “You went through so much, Sokka. That was your life for a year and it’s hard to adjust after that. It’s hard and it’s weird and believe me, I understand. Sometimes I miss those nights out with the guys too. But you know what?”

“What?” asked Sokka, trying not to let his tears be too evident in his words.

“Just because the scary part is over doesn’t mean the good part has to be too. Every time we have a big dinner, it feels like I’m out with the guys again. You want to send out some letters to invite your friends over for a week? We can do it tonight. Or you could just send something to Aang and ask if you could travel with him for a while if that’s what you feel like.”

“I don’t even know what I want anymore. I just— I _hate_ sitting in here all day just failing and failing and nursing my stupid leg.” Because, of course, his leg was still in the physical therapy stages after being broken and he struggled to walk far even with a cane. Support from his family was the only way he really got around those days. “I just want it to stop hurting.”

He nodded. His tone was sad when he went on. “I know. If you ever want to talk about it, you know where I am, okay? And you do not _ever_ have to take all of this responsibility. You’re still just a kid, Sokka. You don’t have to take _any_ responsibility. I’m letting you do this because I know how much it means for you to help but if it’s too much you say something, and I will take it off your hands in a minute.”

“No, I want the responsibility, I just can’t do it on my own anymore. I can’t do _anything_ on my own anymore because I can’t even walk. Maybe I don’t have to fight anymore but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to and I can’t. All I want to do is practice but I can’t even stand up for more than two minutes without someone else holding my hand.”

“But that’s not your fault. You don’t ever blame yourself for that. You got that injury on one of the most noble missions in the world and you should never feel bad about that. And you’ve been making so much progress in your physical therapy, you— I am so, _so_ proud of you, Sokka. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” Sokka whispered, wishing he could blame his tears on something else but knowing he had nothing. “I really want to finish his, I just don’t know how to do it on my own. I don’t know how to do anything anymore. I feel like I have to relearn my whole life and it’s _so_ _hard_.”

“And you are so strong.” Suddenly, Hakoda shifted back, brushing a hand over his son’s cheeks to brush away the water. Sokka blinked, looking down ashamedly, but managed to lift his gaze when his dad nudged his chin. “Hey, how about this? I came in here to ask if you wanted to go fishing with me and Bato. How about we go do that, and you can help us there, and then we’ll come back and try and figure this all out over dinner, okay?”

It took a second, but he got himself to nod. “Okay.”

“All right, come here. Just tell me if it hurts.”

Sokka’s leg did hurt, but with his dad whispering jokes and reassurance into his ear the whole time they walked over to meet Bato, it didn’t feel so daunting anymore.


	33. To See You Again - [Katara & Sokka, Aang & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, insecurity, chronic pain, loneliness, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** after the war, Sokka goes back to the SWT cause he missed it a lot and he wants to start rebuilding efforts, but he’s the only one who goes. Everyone else either travels or stays in the Fire Nation so they end up naturally seeing each other more than they see Sokka. When they all go to visit the SWT, Sokka notices that they all have little inside jokes and stuff so he feels like he’s been left behind and uhh idk what else but it ends in hugs. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634508162646654976/alright-hear-me-out-after-the-war-sokka-goes)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,330

Sokka was the only one who went back to the Southern Water Tribe after the war.

Okay, technically, he wasn’t the _only_ one. He went with Bato and his dad and all the other Water Tribe warriors. Katara came too, but she left after just a few days to go traveling with Aang, and Sokka was alone again. She came to visit every now and then, and always brought stories of their friends. She saw everyone. Sokka saw no one.

It was selfish to think they might invite him to do something with them. Sokka _knew_ that the reason everyone got to travel with Aang except for him was because he was useless. Because Sokka’s leg was wrapped up for a good five months after Sozin’s Comet—he’d sustained multiple fractures of varying degrees, according to the healers—and he was _still_ doing physical therapy daily, but still. No one ever asked.

By the time his friends finally came to visit the tribe, he should have expected nothing less than what he got. They didn’t come to see him; they came to see Katara. Sure, they hugged him, and they asked for some jokes, but every one of his gags was ruined by an inside joke he didn’t understand. Every story he tried to tell was uprooted by a hilarious incident he hadn’t been there for.

He was okay with it for the first day, and most of the second, but by that night, Sokka was done. Halfway through dinner, he wandered off, and no one seemed to notice. He grabbed his crutches because he couldn’t fucking walk on his own, especially at the end of the day, then wandered over to the docks. For a moment, he only stood there, but then he sat. Right in that same spot.

The docks were a comfort, he had to admit. Sokka didn’t miss sitting there, waiting for his dad to come home, but he did feel a sense of familiarity when he was there. The feeling that someone cared, however far away they were. The feeling that he didn’t seem to have anymore because his friends all went off without him and didn’t stop to ask whether he wanted to come.

“Hey.” He should’ve seen it coming. Katara understood how much of a comfort the docks were for him better than anyone. She placed a hand on his shoulder as she sat at his side, dangling her own legs over the edge beside his. “Are you okay, Sokka? You left really suddenly. We didn’t even see you go.”

“No, because nobody cares about old Sokka.” That was the wrong tone to use. Katara sighed as Sokka sniffed, pushing his gloves over his cheeks. It was just the snow. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you guys have all these stories and inside jokes and all I have are half-finished plans and seventy-two stories about falling on my face trying to relearn how to walk.”

“You know we love to listen to your plans. It doesn’t matter if they’re finished or not.”

“It does, though, because I tried to tell you about the emergency plan I spent two months perfecting and you twisted it around into something you guys did in Omashu. I didn’t get a fourth of the way through it. If you don’t care about my finished plans, I think it’s pretty damn obvious you don’t care about the unfinished ones either.”

“Hey, we care about your plans.”

The second he heard Aang’s voice, Sokka dropped his head into his hands. Of course, he wasn’t actually alone with his sister like he thought. He was bitching to a whole audience great. He took a deep breath before looking up, glancing over his shoulder, and letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the others were still at the campfire, though they _were_ looking that way.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aang,” said Sokka, as the boy in question sat down on his other side. Sokka shifted uncomfortably, looking down to the water to avoid either of their gazes. “I get it, they’re boring, and I’m not really a part of the gang anymore, so you have no reason to pretend to listen to me. It’s fine.”

“Wait, what?” The only reason Sokka didn’t immediately shut down again was because of how genuinely confused Aang’s tone was. He made a face, turning to look right at Sokka, though Sokka didn’t look back. “Sokka, you’re like, the most important of us all.”

“Pretty sure that’s you, but okay. Whatever.”

“I think what he means is that we haven’t all been together in so long,” Katara started, “and the only reason we’re all here now is because we all wanted to see you.”

“Seriously, I get it, and it’s fine.” Katara let out a huff, while Aang only looked even more baffled. Sokka really hadn’t been clear enough. He tried again. “I don’t care. It’s fine, I get it. Aang’s the Avatar, Zuko’s the Fire Lord, Suki’s an incredible warrior, Toph’s the greatest earthbender ever, you’re the greatest waterbender ever, and I’m just that sarcastic idiot with a broken leg. I know. It’s fine.”

“That’s not really how you think of yourself, is it?” This time, Aang’s tone was only sad, his gaze softening in a way that Sokka finally couldn’t resist. “You know, Sokka, you can come traveling with me whenever you want. Or if you just want a ride to visit Suki or Toph and Zuko… I _always_ want to see you. We all do.”

“I know. That’s why none of you have sent more than a few letters since the war ended. It’s _fine_ , guys, seriously. If you want to do things without me, I don’t care, I just don’t like being patronized.”

“It’s my fault. That you were left behind.” Katara spoke suddenly, her tone dripping with guilt. Sokka frowned, turning to look at her quickly. “Aang wanted to invite you a few times but I just kept remembering when I was here with you right after Sozin’s Comet and how much _pain_ you were in, I— and then I saw you struggling with the physical therapy and I just— I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Sokka froze as Aang started apologizing for the same thing. For a split second, Sokka wanted to tell them that he didn’t need to be protected, that they should’ve just invited him anyway, but he stopped himself. He thought they weren’t inviting him because they didn’t care, but the truth was, they _did_. They didn’t invite him because they cared _so much_ they didn’t want to see him hurt.

“We always want to see you, Sokka,” said Aang, breaking him from his thoughts, “and if you’re feeling better, I would be _more_ than happy for you to come travel with me for a while. I just know how much the tribe means to you and how bad your injury was, and I didn’t want you to get hurt or have to leave that behind so soon.”

And that was right. Sokka didn’t want to leave his home, especially so soon after the war. When they needed help rebuilding and readjusting. His friends weren’t trying to abandon him, they just knew him better than he knew himself. Sokka blinked, pushing away the stress and relief in his eyes. They cared. They didn’t just care, they cared _too much_.

“Sokka?” Katara’s voice sounded concerned. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly, suddenly realizing how long he’d been silent for. “Yeah. Need a minute.”

Apparently, Aang and Katara really _did_ know Sokka way better than he knew himself, because he almost sobbed when they both threw their arms around him, burying him in a warm embrace. They didn’t need to say anything else. The way they held him said everything he needed to know. That his fears weren’t real. That they loved him.

That he was family, no matter what happened.


	34. One Little Mistake - [Sokka/Zuko, Aang & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** Sokka messes up a tiny bit at something he feels is really important, and just cracks and hides away because he’s scared of getting mad at. All the pressure he’s been under and a young age has caught up, he just doesn’t want anyone mad. Or maybe something where an idiot loser head is mean to Sokka about something and causes the same thing, hugs from any but not limiting to everyone [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634600787526533120/ok-but-what-if-for-some-reason-sokka-messes-up-a)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,003

It wasn’t intentional.

Running out to the courtyard was. Hiding behind the bushes was. Sliding down the wall and dragging his knees into his chest was. But the scratches on his arm weren’t. The pounding in his chest wasn’t. The tears that slid out of his eyes weren’t. They were all just a result of Sokka’s _stupid_ brain overreacting. Telling him everyone would hate him for what he did.

There was a flaw in his plan. It wasn’t a big one, but it was one that would cause a chain reaction that could fracture the entire thing. Aang was the one to notice it. Zuko was the one to fix it. One of Zuko’s advisors was the one to suggest Sokka leave. That he was useless. Pathetic. Compromising the entire operation because of his ignorant oversight.

Sokka shoved his hands over his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pushed back the tears of stress. He was fine. Everyone was mad at him, but he deserved it because Zuko’s advisor was right and he ruined everything. He didn’t pay enough attention and he overlooked something massive that impacted the whole thing. He deserved to be yelled at. He deserved to get kicked out.

But he didn’t want them to be mad at him, and he gave himself a pass for that. All things aside, Sokka was _seventeen_. The guy who yelled at him had to be close to forty. He lacked the same life experience, the detailed knowledge of politics; he was doing the best with what he had and even if he knew he deserved it, he didn’t want to get yelled at for that. He didn’t want anyone to be upset.

“Sokka? Are you out here?” Of course, it was Aang and Zuko who came out to find him. Sokka pulled himself further back into the wall. He didn’t want to fight. Not anymore. “Sokka, please. We know you’re out here; the guards saw you come by.”

It was the sniffling that gave him away. The way his breaths caught in his throat and his eyes dripped upon his knees. He heard the footsteps from several feet away but only buried his head down deeper, not moving even when he felt the warm hand on his bicep, gently pulling him into warmer arms and the softest shoulder. Sokka’s arms moved without him, lifting to cling to Zuko’s back.

Within seconds, Aang inserted himself into the hug too, though he didn’t hold either of them quite as intimately. He just held them both close, closing his eyes and giving their shoulders a good squeeze before pulling away. Sokka slid back toward the wall once Aang shifted, leaving him in an uncomfortable spot across from his friends. The hug was nice, but it was time for arguments now.

“I just fired my advisor,” said Zuko bluntly. He didn’t wait for Sokka to respond, nor acknowledge Aang’s nod. “He’s been stripped of all titles. Anyone who would say something like that has no place here.”

“But he was right,” Sokka mumbled, unable to meet either Zuko or Aang’s gaze. He shook his head slowly, thinking back to the things he did. The mistakes he made. “I left that giant gaping hole in the plan and if Aang hadn’t caught it, then this whole thing could’ve gone under in _days_.”

“Maybe, but we caught it,” Aang reassured him. His tone was kind, comforting, but it wasn’t enough to convince Sokka that he was right. “You’re just a kid, Sokka. No one expects your plans to be perfect. That’s why Zuko does these meetings. So we can all come together and make sure everything works.”

“I know, it just feel so—”

“Don’t say stupid.” Zuko reached out for Sokka’s hand, taking it into his. He slid the back of his fingers over the scratch on Sokka’s wrist, a sad look crossing his eyes before he gripped both is hands around Sokka’s own. “Please. We talked about this. I know how hard it is to believe sometimes but you are _amazing_. You are so incredible, and I don’t care what that asshole said. I’m proud of you.”

Admittedly, the kiss to the top of his knuckles broke Sokka a little. He wanted to listen to what Zuko had to say. That he wasn’t stupid, and his mistake wasn’t that big, and he was amazing and worth being proud of, but he couldn’t. Because Zuko was right about one thing for sure, and that was how hard it was for Sokka to believe everything he said.

“Zuko is right,” Aang agreed, glancing down to their entwined hands. “We couldn’t have done this without you, Sokka. One tiny little issue with the plan doesn’t make it any less incredible that you did it on your own. What that guy said to you in there wasn’t okay. Don’t feel bad about yourself because of the things he said. His opinion doesn’t change what you’ve accomplished or how much you mean to us.”

Aang’s words combined with the kiss Zuko pressed to his forehead followed by yet another hug—that Aang, again, refused to be left out of, not that the minded one bit—made Sokka feel a little bit better. Not perfect, but better. He wrapped an arm around each of them, taking a deep breath as he eased into their embrace. He was okay. The anxiety wasn’t all gone, but he was okay.

“Are you going to be all right, Sokka?” asked Zuko, sliding a hand around the back of Sokka’s neck and gently stroking the edge of his hairline.

Sokka hesitated, biting down on his lip as he shifted in his friends’ arms. When he stepped outside, he felt guilty. Awful. Like he’d done something horribly wrong and worth being hated over. But as he sat there, in that warm embrace with two of the greatest people he’d ever known, all of that hurt started to fade away. He sniffed, nodding before he spoke.

“I already am.”


	35. You're Up Early - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 210

“Zuko. Wake up, beautiful.”

There was one hand on his right cheek and a pair of lips planting a kiss right on the edge of his scar. He had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted well enough for him to see Sokka leaning over him; his hair down and messy from sleep, his shirt nowhere to be seen.

“Hey.” Zuko lifted his left hand to hold Sokka’s right, fitting his palm to the back of his hand. Sokka smiled. It was the sweetest sight. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shifted into the mattress, sliding his head onto Zuko’s shoulder and easing into it when Zuko’s arm pulled him in close. “I was working on those plans from last night. You want to see what I came up with?”

Zuko hesitated, letting out a soft breath as he moved closer to Sokka, lifting one hand to his face and stroking his jawline with his thumb. Sokka’s perfect eyes looked back at him, waiting for an answer. The one he got wasn’t the one he was looking for.

“In a minute,” said Zuko quietly. “I need a bit to admire the view first.”

It was the smile of realization on Sokka’s face that made his lips impossible to resist.


	36. Broken Progress [Sokka & Suki, Sokka & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, chronic pain, drawing, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** Maybe after the war Sokka starts taking drawing lessons cause he wants to get better and he has nothing else to do cause of his leg, and he gets really good to the point where he wants to start sharing it with the gaang. When he’s about to, someone makes an offhanded comment/joke about how bad he is (or in this case used to be) at drawing so he freezes and leaves only for someone (probably suki or zuko) to find him and his drawings. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/634693768362295296/maybe-after-the-war-sokka-starts-taking-drawing)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,586

There wasn’t much for Sokka to do while his leg was broken.

 _Especially_ at home with all the snow around, it was hard to move easily and Sokka spent most of his time sitting around. Sometimes he would go out fishing with his dad or hang out with Katara by the otter penguins, but for the most part, he was on his own. He didn’t blame anyone for it. His leg was busted, he couldn’t move, there was no point to hanging around him. End of story.

So, Sokka found his own way to entertain himself.

He loved inventing things. He loved thinking and planning and sketching, but the problem was, he was _terrible_ at putting his ideas on the page. There wasn’t any clear reason why, Sokka just struggled with it. He struggled to write words and draw images, and it stunted his growth as an inventor massively. As such, he did the only thing he could and went to someone for help.

Bato was amazing at drawing. Sokka had known that since he was a kid. They worked on so many projects together and sometimes, Bato just drew little pictures to give him and Katara for the fun of it. He was a great teacher too, but Sokka wasn’t a good student. He struggled. _Badly_. He couldn’t explain why he was so bad at writing and drawing, but he was. He wanted to give up multiple times.

Somehow, he never did.

Despite how hard some days were—hard enough that he shed a few tears, not that he would ever tell that to _anyone_ except Bato, and that was only because he saw it—and how much he hated his work, Sokka kept trying. He tried for the five months he was in a cast. For the three months he was in physical therapy. For every damn day his leg ached too much for him to get out of bed without help and eventually, he got good at it.

Sokka wasn’t perfect by any means but he was proud of his progress and how hard he was trying. He was impressed by his own work, happy with his skill level, and ready to show it off. The moment Katara said their friends were coming for a visit, Sokka got to work on a group sketch. It was a little hard, doing them all by memory, but he tried his best and he was really pleased with how it turned out.

He was too nervous to show it to everyone when they first arrived, so he waited for the end of the day. They were all gathered around the fire—Katara, Suki, Zuko, Toph, Aang, and himself—as they caught up on each other’s stories, laughing and spending time together for the first time in months. Sokka cleared his throat, clinging to the rolled parchment in his hand, and rose to his feet; one hand on his scroll and the other balancing his cane.

“So, as you guys know,” he started, “I haven’t really been able to get around much with my leg the way it is, so I had to work on something else, and I kind of took on a new project. First, I wanted to just invent things, but then I realized that to do that, I really needed to learn how to draw better, so I—”

“Oh, no. Here we go again.”

Sokka wasn’t halfway finished unrolling his drawing when Katara made the comment. Her tone was humorous, but he didn’t laugh. The way everyone else smiled hurt. They didn’t believe he could get better.

“Didn’t you draw me firebending last time?” Suki was chuckling when she said the words. They all grinned again. Sokka’s face fell further. “Whatever this is, I’m sure it’s at least better than that.”

“I don’t care what it is,” said Toph, leaning back in her seat. “I’m just glad I don’t have to see it.”

It didn’t matter that they were joking. It didn’t matter that not one word was meant with malicious intent. Sokka worked hard for almost a _year_ , cramping his hand up until he couldn’t draw anymore, just to learn how to write and sketch better, and they didn’t care. They just made fun of him. They didn’t think he could get better. They didn’t think he could improve.

Sokka took one look at his friends and threw the scroll into the fire.

He didn’t say a word as he turned away, wishing he could move faster but his stupid cane and the icy ground slowing him down. His friends called after him as he walked away and he could hear footsteps behind him, but they didn’t follow. Not all the way. Not into the igloo where he’d been practicing with Bato, hiding out from everyone for days as he tried so hard to fix his mistakes.

The pain in his chest hurt but the throbbing in his leg when he crashed onto the ground with his drawings hurt more. Sokka sniffed, brushing a hand over his face before tossing his cane to the side and grabbing a nearby drawing. He stared at it for a second, the picture of Momo, and tore it right in half. It wasn’t good enough. It was terrible and broken just like all of them were.

“Sokka.” He didn’t listen to the voice calling his name, shaking his head as he reached out for the next page and crumbled it and tore it apart. It wasn’t good enough. It deserved to be broken. Ruined. Thrown to the side. “Sokka, _stop_. You’re not— _Sokka_.”

All he wanted was to be strong, but the moment Suki’s arms wrapped around him, Sokka fucking _sobbed_. A horrible wheeze escaped his lips as Suki eased his head down onto her shoulder, holding him close and taking shaking breaths that said she was just as freaked out as him. He tried to follow her, to relax, but it didn’t work because he looked down and saw his work and he _knew_ it wasn’t good enough.

“Hey, is he okay?” Sokka didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel Suki nodding when Zuko’s voice asked the question from the doorway. His footsteps cracked on the ground beneath him as he spoke, moving close to Sokka and Suki. “I know you told us to wait outside, but I think I understand, Sokka. When I was learning to bend, my father— holy _shit_. Are these yours?”

Sokka only opened his eyes when he heard the paper crinkling in Zuko’s hands. He gently slid out of Suki’s grip, forcing a smile when she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Zuko was holding another drawing in his hands, because of _course_ he had to find one of him. Sokka wanted to tear it from his grasp, to apologize, but he nodded instead.

“These are incredible. How much have you been practicing?”

“Not enough,” Sokka mumbled, dragging his gloved hand under his eyes. He sniffed again, telling himself it was just because of the cold. “I keep trying but it’s not good enough. It’s never good enough and I keep thinking one day I’m going to wake up and I’m going to be able to draw whatever I want but it doesn’t work like that.”

“Sokka, I am so sorry about what we said.” Suki reached out for one of Sokka’s hands, holding it between hers and looking into his eyes. He was only able to hold her gaze for a moment before turning away. “You know that we were just joking, right? We didn’t know how hard you’ve been working on this. It’s amazing.”

“But it’s _not_ amazing because if I was working hard enough I would be able to walk.”

The words surprised Sokka as much as they surprised Suki and Zuko and suddenly, all three of them went silent. The drawings mattered to Sokka, but he didn’t realize the reason _why_ they mattered so much was because that was a skill he could control. It was a comfort, a way for him to relax, and something for him to focus on instead of the constant pain in his leg and the trauma that came with it.

“I used meditation.” Zuko’s words didn’t make any sense and that was the only reason Sokka turned to look at him. For an explanation. “My face was on fire, I couldn’t see anything, my leg was bruised badly from the way my father— my uncle showed me meditation and it was hard for me at first. To focus. So, I put all my energy into getting better at it. It kept my mind off the pain.”

“Do you want to come sit with us again?” asked Suki quietly, giving his hand another squeeze. Sokka didn’t answer. “We’d love to see what you’ve been working on. Really. You said you were learning to sketch for your inventions, right? Do you have any of those you want to tell us about?”

It took a long several seconds before Sokka finally nodded. He had to push around his things for a minute to find what he was looking for but when he did, he piled the stuff in his arms and accepted it when Suki and Zuko each offered a hand to help him walk. The tears were still stinging at his eyes, the pain still burning in his leg, but it hurt a little less when they were holding him.

It hurt a little less knowing they were supporting him.


	37. It's Not an Overreaction - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, social anxiety, anxiety attacks, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** I think there’s a chance that Sokka would have social anxiety. I mean he spent the first 15 years of his life really only talking to family, and I can totally see him over analyzing everything he says when he’s around groups of people. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/635055152673505281/idk-if-youve-ever-written-about-this-but-i-think)]
> 
>  **word count:** 895

The thing Sokka never told anyone was that he didn’t really know how to handle himself around strangers.

He acted like he was all smooth, sure, but he wasn’t. How could he be? Up until he was fifteen, the only people he interacted with were his family, a few warriors, a handful of old people, and way more kids than he ever cared for. So, no. He wasn’t good at the whole people thing. He wasn’t good at the people thing at _all_ but after so many years of bragging about how great he was, he didn’t know how to admit that he wasn’t.

Zuko’s banquet wasn’t even anything that big. There were a lot of stuffy politicians around, yeah, but the event couldn’t have been more than a hundred people total. Nobody had even tried to talk to Sokka yet, not except for Aang and Zuko himself, but his stomach was churning, and he had no good reason why. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine, he was just overreacting like he always did.

He was overreacting when he lurched at the sound of someone addressing him. He was overreacting when a question was asked, and he found himself at a loss as to how to give an answer. He was overreacting when he got so lightheaded he turned and ran away because it felt easier than staying there and letting everyone see the way he crumbled when he was stuck in a weird place with people he didn’t even know.

“Sokka.” The voice was kind and gentle, but he yanked away when he felt the warm hands on his wrists, unable to take the pressure without his illness getting worse. His chest was burning from an inability to breathe, his head pounding and his stomach swirling in a way he could seem to shake. “Sokka, _breathe_. It’s okay. Just hold my hands, okay, Penguin?”

It was hard at first, to take the hands without shaking, but Sokka managed to ease into it; gently lacing their fingers together before squeezing with a force all too much for those delicate bones. Thankfully, Zuko did not see his soft fingers in the same way and let Sokka hold them as tightly as he needed to, quietly reminding him that he was okay, and he needed to keep breathing.

By the time Sokka was finally able to get himself back under control, he was flat out leaning against Zuko’s shoulder, his forehead pressed against the crook of his neck and his hands still clinging to him tightly. Zuko didn’t say a word, only holding Sokka’s fingers as long as he needed it and wrapping his arms around his shoulders to pull him in close when he was done.

“Are you okay, Penguin?” Zuko’s voice was gentle and quiet and Sokka hated the fact that all it did was produce a tear. He nodded against Zuko’s shoulder, not quite sure how to use his words to explain. “Take all the time you need.”

Finally, Sokka opened his eyes, allowing them to register where he’d gone. He wasn’t far down the corridor, but it was enough that they wouldn’t be found. Enough that no one would catch them as they sat back near the wall. Sokka still felt sick when he nuzzled into Zuko’s shoulder, his heart pounding, and his stomach churning in a way worse than he could remember, but he felt safer there, in that warm pair of arms.

“Sorry I ran out on you like that,” Sokka whispered, sliding his fingers around to cling to Zuko’s back.

Zuko shook his head, carefully stroking the edge of Sokka’s hair. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I understand.”

“No, it’s stupid. I just— I don’t know how to talk to people. When I was growing up, I only ever talked to the people I knew my whole life and then I started traveling with Aang and Katara and I would meet these people and have to talk to them and I just get— I just get _sick_. I don’t even know why; I just can’t move. I can’t talk. I can’t do anything until it goes away.”

“Social anxiety. I understand. I’ve had that my whole life. It was a little easier to get used to since I always had to go to these things, and then I was used to being the antagonist so I kind of became indifferent to it, but… sometimes when I have to talk to really important people, I still get it. That sick feeling crippling my whole body. Feeling like I’m out of control. It’s okay. You just have to breathe through it.”

“You have to go back to the banquet,” said Sokka, not shifting despite his words. “They’ll be looking for you.”

“No, I have to make sure you’re okay.” Zuko turned and pressed a kiss to Sokka’s temple, letting out a deep breath before he went on, his voice low. “Politics or not, not one of those guys in there means half as much as you do.”

Sokka only nodded again. He knew that Zuko should go back into the room, that he should too, but he didn’t want to. He still felt sick, broken, and being held in Zuko’s arms—in those warm, gentle, _familiar_ arms—made him feel too much better to ever pull away.


	38. The Night Before - [Sokka/Suki]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** episode: s03e19 sozin's comet part 2 the old masters, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
> **prompt:** something where Sokka is just struggling with something bad and like he’s just refusing to cry or show any emotion and someone just has to like watch him convince himself not to cry but while crying... [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/635270307908861952/its-international-mens-day-and-i-was-thinking)]
> 
> **word count:** 1,105

Suki realized that Sokka was gone the moment she woke up.

It wasn’t even light out yet. In fact, it was still almost pitch black. The stars and the moon illuminated the sky but aside from that, she couldn’t see a thing when she poked her head outside. Concerned, Suki dragged a blanket around her shoulders to keep warm and slid out of the tent, glancing around the area. She tried to track him down without moving too much, but her sight wasn’t enough, and she ended up wandering the quiet camp.

Amid the sounds of the fire crackling, the insects chirping, and the wind blowing in the distance, was something else. Something Suki almost didn’t notice at first because it was so quiet. The breathing was a bit off in the distance, shaking and shallow in a way that must’ve hurt. The sniffling was even softer, the stifled sob and unintelligible whispers the only reason she was able to pin down a spot. To pin down Sokka.

“ _Stop it, stop it, stop it._ ” His words were quiet, pained, and almost _begging_ for what they asked. He inhaled sharply, his breath coming out as more of a wheeze than anything else. Suki attributed this partially to how he was sat; positioned in a small cave of rocks just outside the camp, his hands pressed against his face. “You’re— You’re a _man_. You have to protect them. You— You _have to stop crying_.”

Another sob escaped his lips, and he shoved his hand over his mouth to muffle it, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead against his knees. Suki took a hesitant step forward, not sure whether it was okay for her to approach or if it might make it worse. She decided to take the chance regardless. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing while Sokka was beating up over things that were out of his control.

“Hey.” Suki gently slid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, taking a step back when he lurched. His chest was rising and falling with a severe intensity, his eyes bright red and his cheeks covered in tears. He lifted his hands to brush them away, but it wasn’t enough. Another escaped his eye the second he dried them off. “Sokka, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Sokka pushed his hands over his face again, sniffing and blinking repeatedly. The tears weren’t stopping, he was just fast enough to keep them from lingering. “Go back to bed, you need your rest for tomorrow.”

“So do you.” Somehow, Suki managed to be faster this time, reaching up her thumb to brush away the next tear to fall from Sokka’s eye. He looked down, clearly embarrassed and disappointed in himself, but Suki felt no different. She nudged Sokka’s chin upward, forcing his pink eyes to meet her gaze. “Please. I’m worried about you.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to be. I’m— _dammit_. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m supposed to protect you, protect _everyone_ , but I’m such a failure, I can’t— I couldn’t save _anyone_ during the invasion and now I can’t even get myself to stop crying. Why can’t I stop crying?”

Suki didn’t have an answer and chose to wrap her arms around him instead. He was cold, his arms bare from how he slept, and she wrapped her blanket around him to try and get some heat back into his bones. Sokka resisted at first but slowly leaned into her shoulder, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. Suki pressed a kiss to his temple, pulling him in close and adjusting the blanket around him a few too many times because it was the only control she had.

Neither of them said a word for a couple of minutes, Suki just holding Sokka in her arms and letting him cry as much as he needed to. She understood his perspective, what he thought about his emotions, but she didn’t agree. It wasn’t weak to cry. It was an honest expression of feelings that he was completely entitled to have. After everything that happened, it only made sense that he would be scared. That his plan wouldn’t work, and he’d feel like he failed again.

“You’re not a failure, Sokka, I promise.” Suki squeezed him tighter when he let out another sob, shaking his head but not trying to escape her grasp. “No, you’re not. Stop shaking your head. I know it’s hard and you’re scared but you are _not_ a failure and whatever happens, even if we don’t win, we won’t blame you. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay if you have to cry.”

“No, it’s not.” She realized only then that Sokka was pressing his eyes against her shirt. He was soaking away his tears before they had the chance to fall. Even then, sitting in her arms in the safest place in the world, he didn’t feel like it was okay. “I’m a _warrior_ , Suki. I’m supposed to be strong but I’m not. I’m not strong enough.”

“This does not make you any less strong. Hey. Listen. This doesn’t change _anything_. I promise. You’re so strong and so smart and being scared doesn’t change any of that. Honestly, I’d be more worried if you _weren’t_ scared.”

“But I _can’t_ be scared. I’m— I’m a man, a warrior, I— I have to keep everyone safe.”

“You’re a _kid_ , Sokka. Maybe you’re a man, maybe you’re a warrior, but none of that negates the fact that you’re fifteen years old and you were forced to grow up way too fast. You are allowed to cry, okay? It’s okay to be upset. I’m not going to tell anyone, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it in when you’re around me either. I understand. And for what it’s worth, I still have every belief in you as a warrior, okay? It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Sokka opened his mouth, likely to respond, but all that came out was a shallow wheeze. He nodded against Suki’s shoulder, a whole new wave of tears soaking into her shirt. Suki didn’t pressure him to talk any more or go back to bed, instead just holding him in place. He didn’t need her telling him how to feel better, he just needed someone to let him know that how he was feeling was already okay. That it didn’t make him weak.

That she would always, _always_ love him, no matter what happened the next day.


	39. You Don't Have to Hide - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, anxiety attacks, sokka has tourette's
> 
> **prompt:** Sokka with Tourette’s [via [@that-was-anticlimactic](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/635315889481400320/hi-ah-okay-so-i-saw-your-post-with-the-i-wish-you)]
> 
> **word count:** 1,064

“Sokka?”

He squeezed his fingers around his mouth, pulling his eyes shut as tightly as he could. The tears on his cheeks made it harder not to move, his fingers slipping each time one broke through his palm, but he did his best. He didn’t care what happened. He didn’t want them to find him. He _couldn’t_ let them find him.

“Sokka, are you in here?” Zuko’s voice was gentle, warm, and filled with concern, but it wasn’t enough. He let out a sigh. “I know you’re in here, Penguin. Please come out. I’m really worried about you.”

On any normal day, he would’ve used that as a segue into the obvious joke that he’d come out a long time ago, but not that day. Instead, he slid his hands from his mouth to his ears. Maybe he couldn’t stop Zuko from hearing him, but he could stop himself from hearing Zuko. From having to face what happened because of him.

More words followed the last, but Sokka couldn’t hear them through his hands. He tugged his fingers around his ears, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. It was fine. Zuko didn’t _seem_ like he was mad. Or at least, not like he regretted asking Sokka to visit and accompany him, regardless of what went down. Regardless of whether—

The words left his mouth faster than he could process what he said, and he knew in a second the jig was up. Sokka slid his hands from around his ears down to his arms, digging his fingers into his biceps in an almost desperate attempt to keep himself from moving. It hurt. It hurt a _lot_ and he knew it wouldn’t last but it was all he could do to keep from making things worse.

“Hey.” The hands on top of his caught Sokka’s attention before the speech. They gripped around his fingers gently, trying to pull him away from where he’d left imprints in the fabric of his shirt. “Hey, you got to breathe for me, okay? Please, you’re having an anxiety attack. _Sokka_. I know you can do it. Just take a deep breath. Come on. Please.”

Sokka didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath until Zuko said something and the moment he did, the moment he took his own exaggerated breath to help Sokka along, he let it go. But the moment he let his breath go, he let everything else go too, and that only made it worse. His heart was still pounding, he still couldn’t see, and suddenly, he was saying things he could barely process. Moving in ways he couldn’t control.

Given prior reactions, the last part of Sokka’s brain that wasn’t overloaded with anxiety was convinced that Zuko would get up and leave. That he would think Sokka was some sort of freak and decide he didn’t want to be together anymore. But he didn’t. Instead, Zuko said calming words, gently trying to help him relax, to work through the anxiety, and holding him in his arms when he finally found it in him to breathe.

“I’m sorry.” It was hard to see through the waves of anxiety. Through the rush of black each time he blinked and the way he twitched even when he wanted to relax in Zuko’s grasp. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I’m— I’m sorry. S— Sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re not doing anything wrong.” Sokka believed him, but it didn’t stop him from doing it. Nothing stopped him from doing it. Nothing that didn’t hurt. “Sokka, please just breathe, okay? You don’t have to suppress _anything_. Just try to breathe with me. You have to get your breath back.”

He tried to nod but it was hard to get his breath back when he was so focused on so many other things. When his body was moving without him and he was blinking so much he started to get dizzy. Zuko gave him more space then, despite not being asked, instead reaching for his hands, and gently stroking them with his thumbs. Sokka stared at the floor as much as he could. The touch helped, but not as much as he wanted it to.

Neither of them spoke for what must’ve been several minutes and it was long and painful—mentally _and_ physically as his body twitched and jerked in ways he couldn’t control—but after a certain point, he started to feel better. Not perfect. Not suddenly still. But the anxiety washed off him in waves and he managed to cleanse himself of enough of it to finally breathe. To finally accept that he was okay. That Zuko wasn’t judging him.

“You okay, Penguin?” It must’ve been clear that Sokka was coming out of it because Zuko only spoke again once he was. Sokka couldn’t get any words out, however, and managed only to nod in response. “You want to go back to my room and lie down for a bit?”

Another nod, this time accompanied by a sniff. His cheeks were still warm with tears, but Zuko didn’t say anything about it. He pressed a kiss to Sokka’s forehead before holding out a hand, offering to help him to his feet. They didn’t let go once the stood up, stepping out of the palace library without many more words. Zuko whispered a few gentle reassurances as they walked down the hall, but Sokka didn’t say anything. Not one word.

A couple people looked at them on their way back to Zuko’s room, but not one of them got away without Zuko flipping them off if they stared. He squeezed Sokka’s hand a little whenever someone else came into view, reassuring him that it was okay, and he still didn’t have to suppress. He still had nothing to be ashamed of even if it felt like he did.

Sokka struggled a little getting his body to relax enough to lie down on Zuko’s chest once they made it back to bed, but he felt a lot better once he was there. Once he was safe and warm under the covers. Able to rest without fear of anyone staring or mocking his tics. Calming down was hard at first but the kiss Zuko pressed to his head was like a magic button and somehow, he managed to drift asleep feeling loved instead of scared.


	40. Customer Service - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** book 2: earth, the jasmine dragon, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 1,041

Zuko wandered off about half an hour too soon.

He didn’t say a word before he left, only walking off to help a customer and never coming back to collect more tea. Iroh wasn’t as concerned as he could’ve been. It was clear that Zuko wasn’t having a good day. He couldn’t quite tell _why_ his nephew wasn’t having a good day—whenever Zuko walked over, he gave the customers’ orders and refused to say more than a few words—but he wasn’t. It was good for him to leave early. To clear his head.

When Iroh got back to the apartment a couple hours later, Zuko was already there. Though Iroh almost expected him to be there angrily muttering to himself or smashing something to take out his frustration, he wasn’t. Instead, he was lying down where he slept, his eyes wide open as he stared out in front of him. Iroh didn’t say a word. Not at first.

Before anything else, he grabbed a blanket and brought it over to his nephew, gently draping it over his shoulders. Zuko didn’t move, only blinking his already bloodshot eyes. Iroh knelt on the floor and pressed the back of his hand against Zuko’s forehead, frowning when he realized he wasn’t sick. That would’ve been too easy a solution, he knew, but it was worth taking a look at regardless.

“Is everything all right, Prince Zuko?” he asked gently, sliding back to give his nephew a little more space. “You did not finish your shift.”

“Thorry.” Zuko sniffed, tugging the blanket more tightly around him. “Tired. I hate cuthtomer thervithe.”

“I know there’s something you’re not telling me. You were smiling when we went in today.”

Zuko shifted, shaking his head as he pressed his head against the floor. His cheeks were a little pink, his eyes a little puffy, and his breathing just uneven enough to show the truth. Iroh already knew what was wrong or at least, he had a really good guess, but he wanted to give Zuko the chance to say it for himself. To talk about one of the traumas he hadn’t gotten the chance to work through yet.

“Leave me alone.” It wasn’t even remotely surprising that he was pushing his uncle away. He sniffed again before going on, his voice low and aggressive. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

As he did whenever he could, Iroh nodded and rose to his feet. If Zuko wasn’t ready to talk about it, Iroh wasn’t going to push him. Especially when he’d been doing so well on the daily. When he was finally reaching a point where he was starting to grow into and embrace his new life. Instead of trying to nudge him more, Iroh just went over to make some more tea. For himself this time.

He sat at the table on his own for a long several minutes. Zuko turned toward the wall, his back to his uncle, and Iroh didn’t say a word about it. He just sat there, staring out the window and sipping at his tea. He wasn’t expecting Zuko to talk to him, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised when his nephew slowly rose to his feet and shuffled over to sit by him, the blanket still around his shoulders.

“There wath thith big table.” Zuko’s hands were already open, and he accepted the tea Iroh poured for him without question. His voice was low when he went on, his gaze staring at his drink instead of his uncle. “Mothtly girlth. A little older than me. One of their dadth wath there too. I— I didn’t thleep well latht night. I wath thlurring a little. He mocked my lithp. Thaid I thounded thtupid.”

It wasn’t about that. Iroh knew _immediately_ that there was more to it. That if all they did was make a few mocking comments, Zuko would’ve lost his temper on them and gone on his way. He’d seen it before, more times than he cared to. There was more to the story, no doubt. It took a sip of tea, a long pause, and a deep breath for Zuko to explain it.

“I didn’t care at firtht. People make commenth about my thitty thervithe all the time. But then I lotht my temper and I thaid thomething thouldn’t have, and they— the girlth were like, ‘look how cute he ith when he’th mad’, and their dad, he— he thaid I mutht’ve been a big dithappointment to you, and I jutht— I know how dumb it ith but that’th what my tutor thaid and I couldn’t— I couldn’t thtop thinking about my father and Athula and how I wath a dithappointment to them, and I—”

“Zuko…”

He didn’t let Iroh finish. “I’m thorry I’ve been thuch a dithappointment to you too.”

Iroh didn’t hesitate. He placed his cup back on the table before sliding around the side of it, dragging Zuko into his arms. For a moment, Zuko was stiff, reluctant, but then he eased into his uncle’s grasp. Slowly, he slid his own hands around Iroh’s back, leaning his head into his shoulder and taking a deep, shaking breath. Iroh didn’t say a word for a long moment, only pulling his nephew in closer and taking long breaths to help guide him.

“You will _never_ be a disappointment to me, my nephew.” Zuko only nodded into his shoulder, and it was unclear whether he was convinced. “I am so proud of you for how you’ve been doing recently. I know it hasn’t been easy adapting to our new lives, but you are doing so well. You are growing into such a fine young man and I could not be prouder that I am your uncle.”

Another deep, shuddering breath came before his reply. “Thank you.”

“You never have to say thank you for the love you deserve.” Iroh gave his nephew one more reassuring squeeze before he slid back, gesturing towards the still steaming cup of tea in front of his seat. “Drink your tea. It’ll help you sleep better.”

“You alwayth thay that.”

“And have I ever been wrong?”

Zuko gave him a rather unamused look but took another sip of his tea regardless.


	41. When They Go Low, We Go High - [Sokka & Suki]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, bullying, emotional hurt/comfort, sokka has adhd
> 
>  **prompt:** Sometimes I think about a modern au where Sokka gets bullied in high school bc people suck but he wouldn’t tell anyone cause he doesn’t want his friends/family worrying about him, but one of his friends overhears it happening and confronts him about it and all the feelings he’d been repressing come to the surface [via @anonymous]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,104

He wanted to be the bigger person.

That was the only reason he never fought back. The only reason he kept his martial arts skills to himself and used them exclusively to block. He didn’t want to fight anyone, but apparently, he was the only one. It didn’t matter if he asked them to leave him alone. They wanted to fight. They wanted to hurt him.

Sokka didn’t even understand why they did it. He never even said a word to them until they day they came up and started mocking his stims. They were jealous of his grades, he realized later, but it didn’t change anything. It didn’t stop it from hurting when they made fun of his fidgeting or accommodations.

“See you tomorrow, spaz.”

He buried his head deeper into his knees when someone kicked his shoulder and the footsteps stomped off down the hall. Sokka refused to react to them. They didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt. Of knowing that the moment he squeezed his eyes shut, he felt ready to never open them again.

Regardless, Sokka snapped his head up the second a hand landed on his shoulder, jerking away as his breath caught in his throat. He was still in the mindset of assuming touch equaled an attack, but that wasn’t it. It was Suki, shifting back when she realized how freaked out he was by her gentle hand.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft too, but Sokka didn’t stop shaking. He shoved his hands over his eyes, trying to hide his budding tears. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you talking to someone. What happened to your cheek?”

“No.” Sokka shook his head, leaning his arms back on his knees and pulling away when she reached out for his blackening eye. If showing his weakness to the bullies was bad, burdening his friend with his insignificant issues was even worse. “I mean— no, I wasn’t talking to anyone. I’m fine. Just needed a breather. Bad anxiety day.”

At first, Sokka thought that Suki believed him, because she didn’t say anything. She only leaned against the wall behind them, letting out a sigh. That was usually how people reacted when he told them something like that. He figured it was because he was a pain to deal with and tried not to think about it too hard.

“I heard what those guys said to you,” Suki told him quietly. Sokka’s eyes opened suddenly and he pulled away when she reached out for one of his hands. “It’s okay. I won’t make you talk about it. I wanted to stop them, but they were already gone by the time I turned the corner.”

“Sorry.” Great. _Months_ he’d managed to keep anyone from finding out, and suddenly, there he was. On the verge of tears in the middle of an empty hallway, trying to weasel his way out of it. “It’s nothing, we just got into a fight over stupid stuff. It’s really no big deal.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t look so good.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m _fine_ , Suki, I just—”

Pathetic. He was pathetic. He couldn’t even finish his sentence without a sob getting in the way and cutting off his speech. Immediately, Suki reached her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug that he couldn’t resist. The tears kept rolling down his cheeks and he didn’t know how to stop them. He didn’t know if he could.

Suki guided him through some deep breaths, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back with one hand. He did his best not to focus on how stupid and weak he looked, but it was almost impossible when that was the only thing he knew. When his face was throbbing, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay.” She could say that as much as she wanted, it didn’t mean it would suddenly come true. “Just keep breathing.”

“This is so stupid.” Sokka could _feel_ his tears soaking into the shoulder of Suki’s shirt and it didn’t help at all. It just made him feel stupider, weaker, like he deserved everything he got. “I told them I don’t want to fight but they just won’t stop. They— They make fun of my ADHD and my— my stimming— and it’s so stupid but I just—”

“Hey, no. It’s not stupid.” Suki’s fingers dragged across the back of his head and it helped a stupid amount. He took another deep breath, trying to regulate his movements. “You’re allowed to be upset about that, all right? What they’re doing is not okay. It _should_ bother you.”

“But I just— I just let it happen. I’m a _black belt_ and I don’t— I don’t stop them or fight back, I just— I just ignore them like it’ll stop if I walk away but it doesn’t. They never stop because I can’t stop my stimming and it—”

“Okay, stop. No. I know where you’re going with that and you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to blame yourself or your ADHD, okay? It’s not your fault that this is happening. It’s not.”

“I know, but it—” Sokka inhaled sharply, a soft wheeze escaping his lips between words. “It’s like, I already hate this stuff about myself, you know? I just— I _hate_ it and if I could stop, I would, but I can’t, and it’s like— it’s like they’re just throwing it back in my face. They’re not doing anything new, it’s just twisting the knife.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that on your own.” Her tone was sad, her arms shifting to pull him in closer. Suki took a deep breath on her own, and Sokka tried to follow, even if he wasn’t intended to. “I’m here for you now, okay? You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready but I’m here. Please don’t blame yourself for all this.”

“But if I was just normal, I could—”

“ _No_. Sokka, I know you’re upset, but I’m serious. You are not allowed to say this is your fault. You are not the problem, I promise. They are. Your stimming is _nothing_ to be ashamed of. _Nothing_. Just take another deep breath and once you’re feeling better, you tell me their names and Katara and I will go kick their asses, okay?”

Sokka almost wanted to argue, to tell her not to get involved or that he’d handle it himself, but a larger part of him felt like an ass-kicking from a couple of girls was exactly what those bullies needed.


	42. Shattered Heart - [Katara & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** implied sokka/suki, angst, grief
> 
>  **prompt:** so about [the post of Sokka asking Katara to heal his heart](https://verdanthoney.tumblr.com/post/635867174877200384/do-you-think-there-was-ever-a-time-where-sokkas)...I’m not a believer of the Suki died young theory but I feel like it fits... [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/635912204894486528/alright-so-about-the-post-of-sokka-asking-katara)]
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“Can you heal it?”

His tone hit her like a tidal wave. “Heal what?”

“My heart,” he squeaked out, his hands shaking as a storm built in his eyes. “Please.”

She hesitated before shaking her head. It wouldn’t do anything if she tried.

“ _Please_ , Katara. I can’t take it anymore.”

He didn’t have to say it. The drop on his cheek gave it away.

“I— I’m so sorry, Sokka.”

The way he choked made her sob too.

“I miss her _so much_.”

Another sob wracked his body when she pulled him in her arms; the only thing she could do.


	43. Love Letters - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, letters, love confessions
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 192

_Dearest Fire Lord Zuko,_

_I want to apologize for my behavior this past week. My actions were impulsive and stupid, and I hope you understand that ~~I didn’t mean anything by it~~ I only did it because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and ~~I really wanted to kiss you~~ I think I really like you._

_Maybe it was impulsive. Maybe we didn’t mean to ~~fall in love~~ hold hands for so long or kiss the night before I left. But it didn’t feel like an accident. It didn’t feel like it was just something you do once, ~~and I really hope it’s not~~ but I understand if I interpreted all of it wrong._

_You are under no obligation to respond to this letter of course, but ~~I would really appreciate it if we could put this whole thing behind us~~ I needed you to know that I meant everything I said. You mean so much to me, but I ~~know~~ understand if I don’t mean that to you too._

_~~Love~~ Sincerely,  
Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe_

* * *

_Sokka, My Beautiful Dumbass,_

_You mean everything to me too._

_x Zuko_


	44. Shaking Hands - [Sokka & Toph]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** anxiety, anxious sokka, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“Hey, you okay?”

Sokka’s posture shifted, his shoulders shrugging as he nodded. His heart didn’t stop racing for a second. There was something about being in the crowd of strangers that put him badly on edge.

“Fine,” he said, but his tone didn’t agree. “Why?”

Toph failed to answer, choosing to reach for his hand instead. It took a moment for Sokka’s fingers to hold back, but when they did, his grip was firm. Though she didn’t know why, she was right. He was scared.

“You don’t have to hold it if you don’t want to.”

He only squeezed tighter.


	45. One Last Try - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-canon, emotional hurt/comfort, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“One last try. You can do it.”

Lies. Zuko tried a thousand times and it never made a difference. It never stopped his mouth from overflowing with shame.

“I can’t.” But the look on his uncle’s face was so kind, so reassuring, he listened. “Prin— Printhe— _Prince_ Th— Th— I can’t do it!”

He dropped forward, burying his face in the pillows. Zuko flinched when a hand pressed against his back but slowly relaxed when the fingers rolled in reassuring circles.

“You’ll learn, Prince Zuko,” said Iroh softly. “I promise.”

Zuko only nodded and turned to crawl into his arms.


	46. In a Name - [Lu Ten & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-canon, implied/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 442

“I like your name.”

Lu Ten blinked, turning to look where his cousin was lying beside him. He was snuggled up in the blankets, his long hair pulled back loosely, and his shoulders draped in sleepwear.

“My name?” Lu Ten repeated, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

“It’th eathy to thay.” Zuko nuzzled into the pillows, sniffing as he squeezed the plush turtle duck tighter in his hands. “Uncle’th too. Father doethn’t thout at me when I talk about you.”

For a moment, he was stunned, and then the anger burned in his chest. Lu Ten reached over and placed the book he’d been reading on the bedside table, taking a deep breath before he spoke another word. It was hard not to sound mad, but he didn’t want Zuko to get the wrong idea.

“Does he shout at you when you talk about other people?”

“Yeah.” Zuko bit down on his lip, pausing instead of going on. “I can’t thay their nameth right. He thayth I have to learn. He— never mind. I’m not thuppothed to talk about it.”

“It’s okay.” He placed a hand on his cousin’s head, playfully messing up his hair and giving him the most reassuring look he could muster. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“He—”

Suddenly, Zuko sat up, his right hand tugging his sleeve down to his elbow and his left still holding the toy. Lu Ten’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the pink and white marks across the boy’s arm, and the tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Did he do that to you?” asked Lu Ten softly.

Zuko hesitated before nodding, his sleeve falling when he slid his fingers around to return to gripping the toy. A tear rolled down his cheek, glistening in the candlelight, and he didn’t bother to wipe it away; his fingers to preoccupied with his plush.

“He burnth me when I thay my name wrong,” Zuko admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was too much. Lu Ten didn’t know what to say, how to deal with that information, so he said nothing. Instead, he reached his arms out, offering a hug but not intruding on his cousin’s space. Not touching him when he was so used to being harmed by familiar hands.

He let out a breath when Zuko slid into his grasp, not letting go of his little turtle duck but pressing his head against Lu Ten’s chest. Lu Ten slid the blankets back around his cousin’s shoulders when he looked down a minute later to see him fast asleep. He’d stay there all night if that was how Zuko felt safest to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beautiful art for this ficlet: ([x](https://spookiestarts.tumblr.com/post/636239456697974784/can-you-tell-i-have-no-self-control-based-on))


	47. I'll Always Baby You - [Sokka/Zuko, Katara & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, friends to lovers, pining, getting together, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** could you write sokka getting taken care of while hes sick? like a cold or a stomach bug. you could make it zukka and add some friends to lovers to make it spicy? or have katara take care of him because i love how you write their relationship. or have BOTH of them take care of sokka and him getting sick of it [via [@verdanthoney](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/636277605478350848/could-you-write-sokka-getting-taken-care-of-while)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,840

“Hey, you sure you’re okay?”

Sokka nodded for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon. Sure, he was a little dizzy and sick to his stomach and just the smell of dinner cooking was enough to make him want to throw up, but it was nothing. He was fine. He was _totally_ fine, and he was not about to let a little bit of sickness take away from his study night with Zuko.

“I’m fine.” Katara didn’t look the least bit convinced. Clearly, he wasn’t as great a liar as he thought. “Just relax, okay? Zuko is going to be here any minute and I don’t want to… uh… interrupt our study time?”

It was the worst excuse ever. Yeah, Sokka liked teaching people about science and he liked working on projects, but that wasn’t the whole reason he wanted to spend time with Zuko. Not that he had a crush on him, exactly, but they’d been good friends for a while and there was a _tiny_ chance he was catching feelings. Tiny. Definitely nothing serious.

That was apparently the only thing that was not serious. By way of rejecting dinner, Sokka managed to make it through their studying without problem. He was still dizzy and sick to his stomach, but he was almost holding his head up just fine and that, at least, was a plus. Zuko didn’t seem to notice that he was unwell, and Katara didn’t say much after he showed up, so it was all good.

At least, until he woke up at four in the morning throwing up everything he’d refused to eat.

The only good part was that he couldn’t really remember much of what happened. He remembered feeling like shit and not being able to fall asleep, and he remembered getting up several times, but not when Zuko and Katara came into the picture. All he knew was that he woke up the next morning with a wet towel on his forehead and Zuko sitting beside the bed, half-asleep while kitchen tools clacked together in the distance.

“Hey.” It wasn’t until he said something that Sokka realized Zuko was holding his hand. It was a loose gesture, but it stopped him right in his tracks. Not that he was going anywhere until the world stopped its spinning. “Katara went to make you some tea. You feel any better?”

“If I was feeling worse than this at any point,” started Sokka, “I really don’t want to remember it.”

Zuko slid their fingers apart, not saying a word about it as he turned to look at Sokka. His entire face fell, and Sokka turned away, knowing he must’ve looked the part of absolute shit. There was no other explanation for the pitiful glance Zuko threw his way. He dragged the blanket up over his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It didn’t help.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” asked Zuko. Really, the sight of his messy bed head was helpful enough. It kept Sokka from thinking about how badly his stomach was churning. “Another towel, or more blankets…?”

“No, I’m okay, I just—”

The timing was ironic, to say the least. Normally, Sokka would’ve stopped to think about how odd that was, but right then, he was far too occupied dealing with his embarrassment over the fact that Zuko was holding his hair back while he threw up. That was it. If he _did_ have any feelings, he’d just thrown any chance of reciprocation down the drain, no pun intended.

It took several minutes of painful dry heaving before he finally felt okay to stand up, but when he did, Zuko was on his arm in a second. He helped Sokka walk back over to his bed, not letting go of him until he was safely back in the blankets. On the one hand, having a hot guy pull blankets on him was pretty nice, but on the other hand, he had a feeling his cheeks weren’t warm only with illness.

“You okay in there?” Katara walked in with a steaming cup of tea, her brow furrowed in concern. Sokka knew it was meant to make him feel better and based on experience, it would, but he couldn’t imagine stomaching anything and took it very reluctantly. “Hey. Do you feel any better or is it still just as bad?”

“I’m fine,” said Sokka, his tone insistent despite how awful he felt. He let out a groan when Katara reached out to switch his towel, despite how nice it felt to have the fresh water on his forehead. “Katara, seriously, it’s fine. You guys don’t have to take care of me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sokka, you were throwing up for basically four hours straight. It’s my given right as a sister to baby you now. Drink your tea.”

He narrowed his eyes, giving her a look that she returned with only a shrug. Katara said something about grabbing him some meds before heading out of the room, leaving Sokka alone with Zuko again. Honestly, the fact that he was still there after a whole night of Sokka’s sick awfulness was more baffling than anything else, but he didn’t want to ask about it and get the inevitable answer that Zuko was throwing him a whole pity party.

Sometime before Katara came back, Sokka managed to finally fall asleep. It was not great timing considering, but he didn’t do anything to fight it. His body was exhausted from being up all night and even if he wanted to stay up and make it look like he wasn’t utterly pathetic to Zuko, he needed to get the rest.

What he didn’t expect was to wake up with Zuko basically straddling him, climbing over the bed with one arm outstretched. Sokka made a face, sliding back suddenly and relaxing only when he realized that his friend was going for his notebook. So _that_ was why he stayed. Not because he cared about whether Sokka was okay, but because he needed to finish the assignment. Duh.

“Shit, sorry.” Zuko moved to the foot of the bed, his eyes wide and his hands shaking with the book still in them. He was clearly startled, but the pink on his cheeks didn’t make quite as much sense. “I didn’t mean to— I wanted to finish the project for you, but I don’t know how to do this, so I wanted to take a look at your notes and—”

“Do what? Let me see.” He reached out for the notebook, but Zuko pulled away, quickly shaking his head. “Zuko, come on. I’ll show you how to do it. Just let me see.”

“No, you need to rest. I’m not letting you worry about all of this right now. I’ll take care of it.”

“And ruin our grade? Please, I’ll explain it to you. Just come here.”

Zuko hesitated, but slid closer to Sokka, reaching over to pull the blankets back over his shoulders. If he weren’t so damn cute doing it, Sokka would’ve said something to stop him. He almost did, but then Zuko flopped down on the pillows beside him and started pointing at the things that were confusing him, and Sokka short-circuited. Not because of the work, but because a really hot guy was lying beside him when he was _sick_. He didn’t even know what to do with that.

It shouldn’t have taken long to explain the physics to Zuko, but Sokka’s brain was all muddled and he found himself struggling to string together coherent sentences. Zuko was all too nice about it though, continuously asking whether he was okay and even tying his hair back after the umpteenth time he pulled it out of his face. Sokka couldn’t explain why he did that, or how he ended up with his head on Zuko’s chest by the time he finished his explanation, but it happened. He figured he could blame it on the illness later.

“Hey, I brought you some more tea.” Katara didn’t ask before walking in, but oddly enough, she didn’t seem surprised that her brother and Zuko were sitting so close together either. She just swapped out Sokka’s towel again, glaring at him when he tried to swat her away and replacing his half-finished tea with a warm mug. “You feeling any better? You haven’t gotten up in a while.”

“Yes, seriously, I’m fine. I was just explaining this stuff to Zuko.” Despite his claims, Zuko had to help Sokka sit up to take the tea; keeping one arm around him even as he leaned back against the pillows. “You know, you _really_ don’t have to baby me, and Zuko, if you want to go home, I think I’ve explained everything here, so you can—”

“I will leave when you can hold your own head up again.” It wasn’t until he said that when Sokka realized he was leaning on Zuko’s shoulder again. Whoops. So much for being subtle. “Besides, just because you explained this doesn’t mean it makes any sense to me. Hey, don’t give me that look. You know I suck at math.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Okay, well, you two seem pretty cozy in here, so…” Katara glanced over to the door, and Sokka’s face went warm all over again. He felt a little better when he looked over and saw Zuko’s was a little pink too. “Do you need anything else? And do _not_ say you’re fine. I can make you some soup, or…?”

“No. No food.” Sokka shook his head quickly, the thought alone making him queasy again. “Really, I just want a nap, but we should finish this project so that you can—”

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” The look Zuko gave him was weirdly warm. Sokka’s heart beat a little faster. “Just close your eyes, okay? I got this covered. Probably. I won’t turn it in until you proofread it, promise.”

“And I’ll be right next door if you need anything else,” said Katara, glancing between the two of them. At least she was okay with it. Whatever ‘it’ was. “I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit. Don’t tell me ‘no’. I’m not asking.”

“Katara—!”

“Hey.” It was Zuko who spoke, his voice quiet and gentle. He reached over to adjust the folded towel on Sokka’s forehead, his gaze shifting back and forth across Sokka’s face. “Just go to sleep. You can’t beat her in an argument when you’re half out of it.”

Sokka nearly tried again, to fight Zuko’s insistence and Katara’s overprotectiveness, but he was too tired to do it. He let out a sigh before finally allowing his eyes to drift shut again, unable to keep himself from smiling when Zuko readjusted the blankets again and Katara moved to take the still-steaming tea from his hands.

All things considered, he still felt like shit, but the scent of fresh tea and the little kiss on his cheek helped him fall asleep.


	48. Warm - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, chronic pain, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** zuko giving sokka a hug [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/636281445242077184/zuko-giving-sokka-a-hug-3333)]
> 
>  **word count:** 311

“Hey, beautiful. You okay?”

Sokka barely looked up. He nodded, but he sniffed and blinked back his tears, and that was more telling than the lies he gestured. Zuko didn’t hesitate before he walked over, immediately registering the hand Sokka held against his thigh. His heart dropped a little as he knelt down beside his boyfriend.

“Come here.” Zuko held his arms out and Sokka quickly turned into them, wrapping his arms around Zuko’s neck, and easing into the embrace around his stomach. “Just having a bad day?”

“Yeah.” The moment Sokka leaned into his shoulder, Zuko slid a hand up to the back of his head, gently pulling him in close. “It was a little bad this morning but I didn’t think it was too much so I went to train with Toph anyway and now I— I can barely even walk with my cane.”

“Okay. You want to lie down?”

Rather than saying anything else, Sokka only nodded again. He didn’t resist when Zuko lifted him from his chair, just holding his arms around his neck as Zuko carried him the few steps to their bed. Sokka winced when Zuko put him down, inhaling sharply, but waved a hand dismissively when Zuko looked to him in concern.

As soon as Sokka was settled, Zuko slid under the covers beside him, pulling his boyfriend in close. Sokka didn’t hesitate before nuzzling into his grasp. The cuddles helped, Zuko knew. As long as their legs were beside each other, his warm body temperature helped to dull the pain. He smiled when Sokka rested his head on his chest, reaching to hold one of his hands.

“Thank you,” Sokka mumbled, allowing his eyes to drift closed.

In response, Zuko only pressed a kiss to the top of his head. There was no thanks necessary for bringing comfort to the man he loved.


	49. Latte Love - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** modern au, established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** Zuko trying to teach Sokka how to make latte art [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/636358568755478528/okay-but-imagine-zuko-trying-to-teach-sokka-how)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,074

“Remind me why we had to do this here?”

“Because if my uncle found out we were meeting up for a _coffee_ date,” started Zuko, his hands not ceasing their pouring of the drink, “I would never be allowed in the Jasmine Dragon again. You don’t understand. He gets crazy about this stuff. One time I said that tea was just hot leaf juice and he looked like he wanted to disown me.”

Sokka snorted, shaking his head as he leaned his elbows on the counter. He didn’t _mind_ doing anything at his place, exactly, it was just that his apartment didn’t have the nicest kitchen in the world, and he was a little embarrassed to have that as the setting for a date with his boyfriend.

“All right, let me have the milk.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Sokka grabbed it himself, not handing it over when Zuko reached for it. He smiled when he nudged his boyfriend out of the way, rolling his eyes at the alarmed look on his face. “Seriously, Zuko, I think I can manage.”

“Can you?” Zuko crossed his arms, dragging a stray lock of hair behind his ear. It was stupid how pretty he looked when his hair was pulled back like that. “Can you really?”

“Yeah, I can. It’s not that hard to pour some milk, babe. You just like, move it back and forth a little, right? Big deal.”

Except it was apparently not so simple as it looked when Zuko did it because Sokka managed to make nothing more than a blob that took over the entirety of the drink. He stared at it in disbelief, blinking several times while Zuko devolved into a laughing mess. How did he mess it up so badly?

Zuko reached his hands on Sokka’s face, turning him to the side and planting a quick kiss on his lips before he pressed their foreheads together, still smiling a little. It was nice to see him happy like that, even if it was pretty embarrassing for Sokka and his poor ruined latte.

“Okay, here.” This time, Sokka released the milk when Zuko reached out for it, leaning in closer to Sokka as he turned toward the counter rather than pulling away. “Let me show you how to do it. First, you have to go slow, all right? You go fast, it’s just going to splash everywhere.”

The problem was not that Sokka was a bad student, nor even that he was ADHD as anything, but because Zuko was too damn cute and Sokka was so distracted watching his hands and his smile that he missed half of what the guy said. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly when Zuko tried to offer the milk back. He had no idea what he was doing.

Apparently, Zuko wouldn’t just settle for Sokka’s failure and instead forced him to take the milk back, reaching around to hold his hands. Sokka’s face went warm in a second but he didn’t pull away, allowing Zuko to gently move his fingers into place and watching as the milk formed the shape of a perfect tea leaf.

“Hey,” said Sokka quietly, leaning into Zuko, “if you’re not supposed to have coffee, isn’t that, like, blasphemy?”

“No.” Zuko shook his head, pressing his forehead against the side of Sokka’s face and giving him the smallest, softest kiss. “It’s fine. As long as my uncle doesn’t see it, at least. Here. You try.”

Sokka was not nearly ready to be doing it on his own, but he gave it a shot anyway. The heart he drew in the latte was sloppy and a little jagged, but it was better than his blob and it got another smile from his boyfriend, which meant more to him than anything else. He let his own lips curl upward, glancing over to Zuko mischievously.

“You ever tried dyeing the milk?”

He blinked, eyes wide in alarm. “No. Please don’t do it.”

“I just think it would look really fancy,” Sokka told him jokingly, lowering the milk on the counter so he could slide his hands around Zuko’s hips. He pulled him in close, pleased by the fact he could still make his boyfriend blush even when he was annoyed at his goofiness. “Come on. Just one time. Just a little orange. You could make a fire.”

“I don’t want to make a fire, I want to drink my coffee.”

“Please?” Sokka leaned forward and kissed the base of his collarbone. It always helped him loosen up. “I still have some colors from when I was baking with Katara the other day. We could just add a few drops. Just to make it fancier.”

“We are not adding chemicals to perfectly good coffee,” said Zuko, sliding his arms up around Sokka’s neck. “I know what you always say, but it does not taste like nothing, and it does not need to be colorful.”

“The more you talk, the more you’re making me want to put a pride flag in that coffee.”

“ _No_. We are not— Sokka, no! Put me down!”

If he weren’t laughing the whole time he shouted, Sokka might have listened to what Zuko said, but as it were, he kept his grip around his boyfriend. He carried him across to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing the box of food dye before heading back over to the coffee and sitting Zuko down on the counter. Sokka dripped several colors into the milk, grinning as he stirred them together.

They turned into a random mash of colors more like a half-mixed indigo than anything else, but Sokka was pleased with it. He poured another coffee before leaning to try his colorful art, stopping only when Zuko placed a hand on his shoulder. The look in his dark eyes was almost pleading.

“If you’re going to do this,” he started, “please at least _try_ to make some nice art.”

Sokka hesitated, placing the milk back on the counter before he took a step to the side, so he was in front of Zuko. He stepped right up between his legs, one hand on each of his thighs as he leaned forward. Slowly, gently, Sokka pressed a kiss right behind Zuko’s right ear, smiling as he slid his mouth back beside it.

“I will make no promises,” Sokka whispered, and the annoyed kiss Zuko pressed to his temple was worth every smirk.


	50. Pep Talks - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, anxious sokka, zuko has a lisp
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 476

“It’s all right. Just take a deep breath and try again. It’s okay to be nervous. Public speaking always makes me really anxious too.”

“You?” Sokka snorted, his hands still shaking as he gripped onto the paper in his hands. “Thanks for trying to be supportive, Zuko, but aside from Aang, you basically give the world’s best speeches. If you’re anxious, then you must do a really great job hiding it.”

“I do.” He bit down on his lip, playing a little with the back of his topknot. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about all that just yet, but to help Sokka, he was willing to crack a little sooner. “I practiced for years, Sokka. People were on top of me for sometimes hours a day trying to make progress. I’m not just magically good at it. It takes time.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I don’t have all those special royal tutors or whatever to help me. I just have, well, you. No offense. You’re just not exactly the greatest at the pep talks.”

“You think they gave me _pep talks_? Try shouting at me every time I messed up and letting my father burn me when I cried. Maybe I had some fancy tutors growing up, but every speech therapist I ever worked with acted like they’d be fine—no, _relieved_ —if I just dropped dead.”

Sokka frowned, his practice speech crinkling in his hands. “Speech therapist?”

“Mm. Four of them.” And suddenly he could no longer look Sokka in the eye. Didn’t matter how pretty they were, he couldn’t get himself to look up again. “I had, uh, I had a lisp when I was growing up, and my father, he— he really hated me for it. You know, the whole ‘couldn’t say my own name’ thing didn’t exactly go over well.”

“Oh.”

He said nothing else and suddenly, Zuko felt his entire face going red. That wasn’t the right thing to say. He’d wanted to be reassuring, to somehow help Sokka so he could work through his anxieties, but that wasn’t the right way to do it. That didn’t do anything but make him look pathetic.

“Sorry,” Zuko mumbled, already turning to leave. “That was too much. I shouldn’t have—”

The second Sokka’s arms wrapped around him, Zuko snapped his mouth shut. He froze where he stood for a minute, hesitating before he lifted his arms to return the embrace. It was warm, comforting, reassuring in a way he could only wish to somehow return. He wanted to say something, to thank Sokka, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Can I tell you something?” asked Sokka quietly, not shifting from where he stood. Zuko nodded, closing his eyes, and leaning against Sokka’s shoulder. “I’ve noticed it before. You’re illegally cute.”

Zuko only laughed. He felt the same way about Sokka’s smile.


	51. Just as Good - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, chronic pain, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** we all know that Sokka has some insecurities about not being good enough for zuko, do you ever think he gets insecure about his sword fighting abilities too? Like, he’s sparring with zuko and he keeps losing so he gets really frustrated because he feels like he’s not a good enough protector for his family? [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/636554761834053632/so-we-all-know-that-sokka-has-some-insecurities)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,087

“Stop doing that.”

Zuko frowned, clearly baffled as to what Sokka was alluding to, despite how obvious it was. He didn’t shift from where he rested on the ground, still staring at Sokka like the blade was pointed at his chest despite it being long gone. There was no pride in that victory. There was no pride in any of them.

“Doing what?” asked Zuko, raising a brow.

“You know what you’re doing,” snapped Sokka. He moved to cross his arms but stopped when he realized he was still holding his sword in one of them. “You’re letting me win. You can see my weakness and you’re not going for it.”

“Yeah, so, maybe I am, but it’s not because I’m taking pity on you or anything. You rarely go for my weak side either, so I’m not going to be the jerk that goes for yours.”

“But you should be. Regardless of what I do, it’s not about being fair, it’s about winning. We’re doing a real match now, or I’m not going to spar with you again. If you’re not putting in your effort, there’s no reason for us to be wasting our time in here.”

Sokka knew he was being too sharp with his words, but he didn’t know how to pull it back. Not when he felt so stupid already and Zuko was there making it worse, whether that was his intention or not. He meant well. Sokka knew that. But he didn’t appreciate the gesture at all.

His knee was stiff as he moved, and he took a deep breath before they started their next match. When Zuko was doing his best, it took absolutely no time to get Sokka to the ground. Had he called Zuko on his shit earlier, it would’ve been longer, but not after he’d already been on his feet for over an hour.

The first loss was no big deal, and the second went right over his head. That was what he wanted, right? He wanted to lose. But then Sokka stepped up his game, he really tried to take back the game, and he _couldn’t_. Nothing he did was enough. Zuko kept besting him over and over again until he wanted to just crawl under the covers and never come out.

“Hey.” The frustration must’ve been clear on Sokka’s face because the look Zuko gave him was nothing but compassionate. He knelt down at Sokka’s side after his latest loss, reaching down to push a stray hair off his cheek. “You okay, Sokka? You want to try and slow down a bit?”

No. He wasn’t okay, and he didn’t want to slow down. He wanted to be better. To be someone who didn’t _have_ to take breaks or ask anyone to go easy on him. To be the warrior he used to be before he fell on that airship and shattered his leg, his life, and his dreams of ever being what he wanted.

“I’m fine,” Sokka huffed, pushing his hands over his eyes. He sat up quickly, wincing at the head rush from moving too fast. For once Zuko’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch instead of relax. “Zuko, seriously, I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Zuko softly.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“Not just one little hug?”

Sokka hesitated. “Fine. Ten seconds and I’m only doing it for you.”

Inevitably, the hug ended up lasting a whole lot longer than that. Though he resisted at first, the second Zuko’s arms were around him, Sokka sank into his grasp and practically clung to his back, pressing his forehead into his sweaty shoulder. He convinced himself he was using the hug as an excuse to feel Zuko’s muscles and not because he needed the comfort.

“You want to tell me what’s really bothering you now?” Zuko was gentle with his question, and Sokka wasn’t quick to respond. He just took another breath, turning into Zuko’s neck and holding him tightly. “It’s all right if you don’t. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I am, I’m fine, it’s just—” He cut himself off, biting down on his lip and inhaling sharply through his nose. “I feel so _powerless_ , you know? Like, weapons are all I have. This is all I have, and I’m supposed to— I’m supposed to be a warrior and protect everyone, and I could never even protect you. Never.”

“Bold words from the guy who gave me an extra scar back at the Western Air Temple.” It was little. The back of his shoulder. An accident. Sokka still felt bad about it sometimes. “Sokka, you are an _incredible_ swordsman, okay? And so much more than that. I know how important this is to you, but you’re not _supposed_ to be anything. You’re you, and I love you for that.”

“But why?” Emotion fueled his words. They left his mouth before he could filter them. “Why do you love me when I’m basically just dead weight? I can’t move my leg half the time and even when I can, I’m barely a whole warrior. I’m useless. I’m not good enough for you, I’ve never been good enough for you, and I don’t understand why—”

The only reason Sokka shut his mouth was because Zuko’s lips made him. It was a soft kiss, a brief kiss, but it got him to stop babbling. It got his heart to flutter and his eyes to meet Zuko’s again. They were sincere, somehow. Sokka couldn’t understand why, but Zuko loved him. He did.

“I understand that you want to hate yourself right now, but I love you. You’re not going to change that. I promise. How about we just go back to our room and I’ll get you some hot towels for your leg, and once you’re feeling a little looser, we can try this in a way that’s _actually_ fair?”

Sokka didn’t answer right away, biting down on his lip before he nodded. “Okay.”

“All right, let’s go. Here.” Zuko offered a hand to help Sokka to his feet, pulling him in for what was both a hug and support for his bad leg. He turned to kiss Sokka’s temple, his lips softer than any pillow that had grazed his face before. “Love you, Penguin.”

“Love you too, Jerk Lord.”

He loved Zuko a tiny bit extra when he was standing over him with a sword a few days later, but who was counting?


	52. Sometimes it Still Burns - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-canon, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“Prince Zuko?”

The boy didn’t look up from where he was huddled in the corner; his face buried in his knees and his whole body shaking. Iroh knelt beside him.

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously.

Zuko didn’t answer immediately and for a moment, Iroh thought he might not. He rarely spoke without shouting. Admitting to crying was a long shot.

“It burns,” Zuko whispered, and his uncle understood in a second.

Iroh pulled his nephew into his arms, careful to lean Zuko’s right side against his shoulder. No one would ever hurt his boy again, and that included himself.


	53. Catch Your Breath - [Sokka & Toph]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-episode: s02e09 bitter work, anxiety attacks, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** people don’t talk about this much but I would bet that Sokka was traumatized from the time he spent in the hole in Bitter Work. I’m not sure about ADHD symptoms, but as someone with anxiety and a finger picking disorder, I know that not being able to move freely is hell, especially for such a long period of time. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/637188593931190272/first-of-all-im-not-sure-if-youve-taken-your)]
> 
>  **word count:** 832

The ground cracked beneath his feet.

It wasn’t so broken when he first started walking on it but after a certain point, he’d paced back and forth so many times that he could hear it smashing and snapping beneath him. The dirt was ground down to nothing, the earth splitting in the places he crushed too often.

Honestly, the only _real_ problem was that Sokka knew he was blowing things way out of proportion and he didn’t know how to stop it. By the time he was out of the hole, he didn’t even care about eating anymore, he just wanted to _move_ , and that’s what he did. He grabbed a snack, sure, but he went right off to walk around, and he hadn’t gone back. Not that it mattered. No one seemed to be looking for him anyway.

“Sokka?”

Or maybe they were because Toph’s voice was loud, echoing, and it stopped him for a good second before he resumed his unending pacing. He’d already chewed his nails down to nothing, his cuticles bleeding around half his fingers, and his hair spilling out of his wolftail, but he didn’t know how to make himself stop. He didn’t know if he could.

“Sokka, are you all right?” Though he wouldn’t have said it, Sokka didn’t expect Toph to ask that question. Given how she’d been to them so far, he assumed she would bark out whatever she wanted him to know and go. But she didn’t. Instead, she walked right over, blocking his path so he had to face her. “Don’t ignore me. I can feel your heart racing. You’re not okay.”

“All right, so, maybe I’m not.” He reached one hand up to his mouth again, moving around her before getting back to his pacing. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not after being trapped for so long. “Sorry, I just needed to stretch my legs after being stuck in that hole all day.”

“It doesn’t feel like you needed to stretch your legs, it feels like you’re having an anxiety attack.”

That got him to cease his pacing, but only to move in a different manner. He whipped around suddenly, looking back to Toph, and stomping right over to her, though her posture didn’t change. Yes, his heart was racing. Yes, he was having a little trouble breathing. No, it was not an _anxiety attack_. That would just be stupid. An overreaction. He wouldn’t do that.

“I’m not having an anxiety attack,” snapped Sokka, despite how breathy and raw his words came out. “I’m just stressed, okay? I was stuck in that thing all day and I couldn’t move, and I know you guys thought it was funny but it— hey!”

“Just relax, okay? Take a deep breath.” Toph’s hands gripping his wrists did not help, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was doing it. She probably hated his nail-biting habit just as much as Katara did. “You’re all right, Sokka. I know it was stressful, but you’re out now. You’re fine.”

“I know. I know I’m fine, and I know I’m blowing this way out of proportion, I just—”

“Can’t catch your breath?”

Sokka hesitated before nodding. “It hurts.”

“What does?” Toph’s voice was oddly concerned and suddenly, he realized she must’ve cared more than he thought. “Sokka. What hurts?”

“My— My chest, I guess. It’s really tight. And my fingertips but that’s— that happens a lot. I just— I know it’s stupid but I’m so stressed and it’s not even because of the hole, I just— I couldn’t _move_.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Suddenly, Toph released her grasp, leaving one arm in place and wrapping it around Sokka’s. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk, all right? I need a break from Miss Pull Your Own Weight back there and you’re not helping yourself by pacing back and forth on ten steps.”

Toph started to pull him, but Sokka didn’t move. He couldn’t explain why his chest pounded faster and his lungs started to burn when she suggested venturing out farther, but it happened and suddenly, he found himself unable to speak. Toph gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, her tone more understanding than he could’ve imagined.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here this time. You have as much space as you need.”

It took a second to convince that little voice in the back of his head that she was right but somehow, Sokka managed to nod. He allowed Toph to show him down the non-existent path, willing himself to stop staring at his own feet. She was right. With Toph there, he was safe. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

He took one look at the way she picked at her ear a minute later and instantly made the decision to stop repressing his stims for the night. Maybe Sokka didn’t feel completely comfortable yet, but Toph was safe. He was sure of it.


	54. Long Day - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A 
> 
> **word count:** 396

“Hey, you okay there, Jerk Lord?”

Zuko nodded, but his eyes were halfway shut, and his lips were curling downward. He walked right over to where Sokka was lying in bed, a handful of work on his lap, and flopped down beside him. Sokka switched the hand he was writing with, shifting his other arm to wrap around Zuko’s shoulders.

“Bad day?” asked Sokka softly, his head turning to kiss the Fire Lord’s cheek as his fingers slid to pull the topknot from his hair.

“Mm.” Zuko didn’t resist when Sokka nudged him closer, resting his head against his husband’s shoulder. “Head hurth.”

Sokka hesitated for just a second. On the one hand, he didn’t want to leave his work unfinished. On the other, it looked like he had more important things to attend to. He’d been working all day anyway. He deserved a little break.

“Here, I think I know how to fix it.”

“No.” That time, he turned right out of Sokka’s grasp, his now-loose hair blocking his face from view. His movements were still lethargic, but his tone held a tone as annoyed as ever. “You promithed you wouldn’t do that anymore, remember? It’th too tacky.”

“Well, maybe that’s your opinion,” whispered Sokka, already moving to place another kiss along Zuko’s jawline, “but I think it’s just tacky enough.”

Were they still teenagers, Sokka would’ve thought Zuko’s resisting was serious. That he didn’t like the tacky opening and the affection was too much. But a thousand kisses later, he knew exactly what to do.

He knew how to kiss his cheeks until Zuko smiled. Where to kiss behind his ears until his face turned bright red. The little spot on the tip of his nose that was just too ticklish and made him laugh every time something—Sokka’s lips—got too close.

“I love you,” said Zuko quietly, sliding a hand to grip his husband’s. “Tho much.”

“I know.” Sokka smiled and lifted his fingers, carefully placing a kiss right beneath his second knuckle. “I love you too.”

That was the invitation for the closer. The last one. The kiss to Zuko’s lips that made him smile until he fell asleep. Until he drifted off right on Sokka’s shoulder and slept soundly while he finished his work. For years, Sokka hated this. Resented their opposing schedules.

Now, he didn’t mind it one bit.


	55. The Bridge - [Sokka & Toph]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, suspense, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** toph and sokka where they get stuck in a life or death situation kinda like in the finale? maybe they get stuck on a bridge and toph has to admit she needs sokka’s help [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/637905288036548608/with-toph-and-sokka-where-they-get-stuck-in-a)]
> 
>  **word count:** 688

_“it’s going to fall.”_

the bridge is in pieces from being smashed against the cliffside and the ropes are not holding up well under the strain. toph’s heart races as sokka says the words but there’s nothing she can do. it’s wood. she can’t feel it and they’re hanging too far out for her to know where cliffs are and it’s too dangerous to bend blind when she could risk knocking sokka or the bridge down.

_“come on.”_

sokka says the words like it’s easy and she can already feel the bridge shift like he’s started to make his way up, but she won’t move. she _can’t_ move. she doesn’t know where to put her hands. she doesn’t know how far down they are. she doesn’t know anything except the ropes are fraying and sokka’s breath is so heavy it’s drowning out even the cries of the wind.

_“i can’t.”_

something must click when she says that because the bridge shifts again and she knows that sokka is coming closer. his footsteps are quiet, deliberate, but his hands slap down on the wood each time he moves downward. then he stops, but the bridge keeps shifting and sliding back and forth. he’s not saying anything. toph can’t figure out why.

_“you have to climb.”_

toph swallows hard and moves to lift one hand. she’s strong enough that she doesn’t need help. she doesn’t need anyone to carry her and that’s obviously what he’s trying to do. she lifts one hand, starts to slide it up toward the next step, and stops when the bridge lurches; immediately dropping it back down to her other hand and gripping on tighter than before.

_“no.”_

silence washes over them in the form of a whistling wind and sokka’s breathing becoming more exaggerated as the bridge shifts again. toph knows it’s not intentional and he’s only trying to help, but every movement scares her more than the last as her fingers weaken and her feet slide from their place. finally, sokka speaks again, but his words aren’t good.

_“i can’t reach you.”_

and in that moment, toph realizes she’s going to die. regardless of whether she tries to move or not, she’s going to fall. with how far down the cliff goes, she knows it’ll be too much of a fall to survive, even if she manages to find the ground and catch herself. it’s over. she swallows hard, her throat dry with fear, and squeezes the wood tighter.

_“please.”_

a long moment passes before sokka suddenly exhales and the bridge shifts again. it’s wobbling more than before and she knows he’s doing something, but she doesn’t know what. then, out of nowhere, something gently touches the back of her hand. it’s cold, a little sharp, and she realizes that it’s his sword. she doesn’t move an inch.

_“hold it as tight as you can.”_

the entire time she’s shifting her grasp to the blade, toph feels like crying. she thinks she might’ve at some point, but there’s too much sweat on her face to tell. her stomach lurches and her heart skips a beat when she slides her fingers around the handle of the sword, and it takes everything she has not to refuse when sokka tells her they have to move.

_“i need help.”_

so, he gives it. sokka watches her the entire way up the bridge, telling her when to lift her foot and where to put it down. she knows he’s struggling to support her weight because of how breathy his words become, especially toward the end, but she doesn’t say anything. in a matter of life or death, survival is more important than comfortability.

_“we made it.”_

toph is lifted suddenly and when her feet next hit the something solid, it’s the ground. the grass filters between her toes and she immediately turns to hug sokka. they don’t part for a long time as she rests her head against his bare shoulder and whispers that it’s okay. that they’re safe. he’s right, but they still hold each other tighter. she chooses to believe it’s sweat on his palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is in lapslock, it started as a headcanon that got out of hand x


	56. No Regrets - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** book 2: earth, insecurity, hurt without comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 100

“Do you ever regret it?”

Iroh lowered his teapot, turning to face his nephew on the counter. It didn’t matter if he asked Zuko not to sit there. He never listened.

“Regret what?” asked Iroh, his brow knit in concern.

“You know.” Zuko shrugged, picking at his fingernails uncomfortably. “Coming with me.”

His heart sank and he quickly shook his head. Iroh carried only one major regret about what happened, and it wasn’t that.

“No,” he answered. “I could never regret it.”

“Okay. Just wondering.”

It was one of the many times Iroh wished Zuko wasn’t so adverse to hugs.


	57. You Were a Puppet - [Katara & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-episode: s03e08 the puppetmaster, guilt, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** I’m not *saying* you should write a little one shot about how Sokka felt after being forced to attack Katara by Hama, but it is a very good look at Sokka’s character/protectiveness that people often don’t think about... [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/637969482655137792/so-im-not-saying-you-should-write-a-little-one)]
> 
>  **word count:** 902

The water was cold. It stung Sokka’s toes like the wind around his shoulders, blowing his loose hair into his face and pulling the tears from his eyes. He gripped his fingers tighter around the hilt of his sword, his hands trembling as he swallowed hard.

He took a step farther into the water, his calves freezing as he moved ahead. It was hard to let go of the sword, but he knew he had to do it. There was no other choice. He took a deep breath, lifting his sword into the air, and prepared to throw.

“Sokka?”

Katara’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he lowered the blade suddenly, dropping it down to his side and resisting the urge to turn around. If he turned around, Katara would have to see the tears on her brother’s face. She didn’t deserve that.

“I’m fine,” said Sokka quickly, already knowing what she’d ask next. “Just go back to bed, all right? We only have a couple hours before we have to start moving again.”

“No.” If there was one thing Sokka wished he could change about his sister in that moment, it was how stupidly stubborn and caring she was. How she refused to just abandon him. “It’s the middle of the night, Sokka. What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Go back to bed.”

“Sokka—”

“ _Please_.”

His tone was either pathetic enough or convincing enough to get her to stop because Katara didn’t say another word. For a moment, everything was so still he was sure that she’d done as she was told, but then he heard the quiet sounds of her edging toward the water and realized he was wrong.

“What are you doing with your sword?” asked Katara gently.

Sokka hesitated. He could tell the truth. “I’m getting rid of it.”

“ _What_? What are you talking about? Why?”

Because he wasn’t trustworthy. Because he didn’t deserve it. Because he’d had it for a few weeks and he’d already disrespected every purpose he’d ever wished to wield it for. Sokka didn’t say any of those things. Instead, he shook his head, squeezing his fingers even tighter.

“I shouldn’t have it,” said Sokka, his heart pounding in his ears. He sniffed, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder. “I can’t be trusted.”

“‘You can’t be trusted’?” He didn’t need to see her face to know what it looked like. Her tone was both scared and deeply confused. “Sokka, you’re my _brother_. I trust you more than anyone else in the world.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why? All you’ve ever done is try to help me. I know you don’t always feel confident in yourself but you’re a good person, Sokka. You’re—”

“I tried to kill you.”

Though in his head it felt like a perfectly reasonable argument, something that should’ve stopped Katara from fighting him because he was so right, it wasn’t. Katara went silent again, as if she didn’t even understand what he was saying, and only responded several seconds later.

“That wasn’t you,” said Katara. The water lapped around her ankles as she inched closer to him, and he pretended it was just the fish. “Sokka, that _wasn’t you_. That was Hama. She was using you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m supposed to protect you.” His voice was flat and didn’t accept a word his sister said to him. It didn’t matter if Hama was controlling him, it still happened. It still ended with Katara sobbing into his arms. “Dad— Dad trusted me to protect you and I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“But you didn’t do it on purpose. You—”

“Still did it! I don’t care if it was intentional or not, I— I still did it and every night since it happened, I have the same stupid nightmare about what might’ve happened if it turned out differently. If you got hurt. If you _died_. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t trust myself with any of you.”

“Please don’t throw your sword away.” Hearing it out loud made Sokka flinch. He let out a shaking breath, pulling his eyes shut tight. He didn’t resist when Katara’s fingers slid around his. “I know you’re scared, but that wasn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But I almost did, and I—” Sokka cut himself off, inhaling sharply and biting down on his lip. “I think about it _all the time_. I have these weird impulses and thoughts and I don’t act on them but I’m so scared that I will. I’m so scared I’m going to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me. Do you blame Aang for what he did? No, because— hey.” Katara gave Sokka’s hand a reassuring squeeze when the sob slid from his lips. “It’s okay. I understand that you don’t trust yourself, but I do. I trust you, Sokka. I always will.”

Despite his mind begging him to stop, Sokka let Katara take the sword from his hand. She lowered it to her side before pulling him in close with her open arm, turning him to face her and inevitably judging the tears on his cheeks. She didn’t say anything about if she did.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Sokka. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath, all right? We’re safe. I promise.”

Sokka nodded, but his shuddering breath expressed his feelings more than words ever could.


	58. His Father's Son - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 186

“Do you think I look like my father?”

It comes out of nowhere when Zuko asks him the question. The sun’s barely risen, the customers have yet to be let in, and he’s just sitting there and staring at a teapot with the strangest look on his face.

“No,” Iroh assures him, because it’s true. “I don’t.”

Zuko nods, but the look in his eyes doesn’t change. His fingers don’t stop dragging down his long hair until they move to trace the line of the scar on his cheek. He does have the jawline.

“Then why can i only see his face?” Zuko asks, his voice cracking.

The tear drips out the second Iroh’s arms wrap around him. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and Iroh pulls him in closer. He’s eighteen now, but he’s still just a kid. He’s still the same little boy.

“You have a good heart, my nephew. That’s what matters.”

A squeak escapes his lips as he turns into his uncle’s shoulder. Zuko says nothing else, but he doesn’t have to. Iroh understands. Relationships can be severed, but genetics never fade.


	59. Faultless - [Sokka & Toph]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, suspense, chronic pain, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** i come bearing more toph and sokka dangerous content. so what if they have a run in with a bunch of ozai supporters again while they’re out on the town or in a marketplace and they get chased around a bunch and they throw toph in this wooden crate so she can’t bend and she’s like “well i’m gonna die here” and the whole time sokka feels like a failure cause he couldn’t protect toph but he somehow gets her back and they have a “omg i thought you were dead :(“ moment. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/638224665218842624/omg-wait-i-come-bearing-more-toph-and-sokka)]
> 
> **word count:** 1,180

“Sokka, look out!”

He barely ducked out of the way after Toph called to him, his chest burning as he reached for his boomerang. The enemies attacked out of nowhere, diving out from the alleys and leaping down from the rooftops. Sokka threw his boomerang to knock one down, but he didn’t see the right one.

“Let go of me, you piece of shit!” Toph’s exclamation was accompanied first by the ground kicking someone away from her, and the next by a shriek. “Sokka! Is this wood? I can’t see anything. Sokka, help!”

Sokka rose to his feet as quickly as he could but Ozai’s supporters must’ve recognized his weakness before because they came at him from the left and had him stumbling back in seconds. His heart pounded as he unsheathed his sword and fought back, watching while they dragged Toph away.

“ _Sokka!_ ”

Despite the shooting pains in his leg, Sokka managed to take down the last of the people attacking him, but it was too late. By the time they were on the ground, Toph was long gone and so were the people who had taken her. Sokka looked to his leg, thanking a nearby citizen who passed him his dropped cane.

It was his fault. Toph was gone and it was his fault. If he was a better fighter, if his leg wasn’t in such bad shape, he could’ve helped her. But he didn’t. He watched as she got taken away, unable to do anything to save her because he could barely even stand. He shifted his weight on the cane. It made it easier.

Sokka knew that he shouldn’t go after her alone but the guilt boiling in his stomach was too intense and he made the impulsive decision to follow her tracks. Ozai’s supporters wanted them dead. They came close to slitting Sokka’s throat before and too many assassination attempts had been placed on Zuko’s head. They weren’t messing around. Toph could already be gone.

Fear in mind, Sokka pushed himself to keep going despite how badly his leg throbbed. It ached and burned each time he lifted his cane, but he couldn’t stop. The light would only last so long, and he needed to find them before it was too late. Before they killed Toph and another death was on his head.

The tears that spilled from his eyes on the way were not from emotion, just strain. He told himself that over and over. He was not mourning or pitying his failure, he was experiencing a regular physical reaction to having that much pain pressed against his bad leg. Even if it didn’t feel like that was it.

Despite how badly his leg was throbbing and shaking, Sokka forced himself to keep moving. He followed the tracks until they stopped and then he followed the footprints until he found their camp because he refused to quit. He had no plan, no strategy, but he wouldn’t leave her. He wouldn’t leave anyone again.

“…I don’t know, I think it might be better if we sell her,” said an angry-looking man. “She’s from a mighty rich family. Could probably fetch a fine price from her parents if we put a ransom on her head.”

“Ozai said he wants her dead,” another argued. “Told us if we saw any of the Avatar’s friends, kill ‘em on sight. She’s already been alive for too long. I say we take her out now.”

Sokka’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly moved forward, keeping himself hidden in the trees. He could see the wooden crate, but he couldn’t hear Toph’s shouting. Normally, she’d have been fighting back by now. He forced himself not to think of the worse. They wouldn’t be arguing about the possibilities if she were already dead.

He stopped at that thought. _Arguing_. Sokka hadn’t been there more than a few minutes, and they’d already screamed at each other enough to last a lifetime. He reached into his bag and ripped out his fling and steel, creeping over to one of their tents. He winced as he knelt down on his leg, striking sparks in the air and on the fabric.

“Hey, who did that?!” cried one of them. Sokka smirked. He still had one skill left, at least. The dumbasses assumed it was caused by firebending. “Did you not hear me? Who the fuck did that?!”

The arguing quickly escalated and the second they were all distracted, Sokka pushed himself to run over to Toph’s cage. He yanked a pin out of his hair and opened the lock as quickly as he could, his heart pounding each time he glanced over to where the enemies were still fighting.

“Toph!” he whispered, barely able to hear her breathing inside. “Toph, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer at all until he reached his arms around her, and at that point, all she did was cling to him and let out a whimper. He knew that face. It was the same face he saw when they were hanging off the airship. Toph wasn’t fighting back because she honestly thought she was about to die.

Sokka let Toph cling to him as tightly as she wanted the whole time they ran through the woods, not even protesting when she shifted to his left and chose to support him with her grasp. They didn’t stop running for several long minutes, getting as far away as they could and finding a cave to hide in before they finally sat to rest.

“Breathe. Hey. Sokka. _Breathe_.” It was almost hilarious that Toph was clinging to him and telling him to breathe when she was still struggling to do it herself. Sokka nodded and did his best anyway. “Are you all right? I thought you were going to fall over.”

“Fine, I walked too much.” Sokka shook his head quickly, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He needed to keep watch, but he couldn’t. It hurt. “What about you? That was— I’m sorry. Fuck. I wouldn’t have asked you to come out to the market with me if I knew— I tried to stop them, but they knew about my leg, and it— I thought you were going to die.”

“I thought I was going to die too.” Suddenly, Toph threw her arms around Sokka, clinging to him even tighter than she had before. “But I didn’t. You saved me.”

“Barely. It wasn’t good enough. I shouldn’t have let you get caught in the first place.”

“It wasn’t your fault. They jumped us. We weren’t— _Sokka_. Look at me.” She physically turned his cheeks to look at exclusively her bangs, apparently irritated with the fact that his entire head was drooping. “I’m okay. I am. And none of this was your fault.”

“Then why does it feel like it was?”

“Because you were scared.” Toph pulled him in close again. “I was too, but we’re safe now. You saved me. Please don’t focus on the other stuff.”

It was only for the tears still streaming down her cheeks that Sokka managed to agree.


	60. The Pain is Only Temporary - [Bato & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, insecurity, hurt/comfort, sokka has dysgraphia
> 
>  **prompt:** bato helping sokka with writing a reading and comforting him about his injury because bato knows what it feels like. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/638795639588798464/fic-recommendation-bato-helping-sokka-with)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,398

Of all the people who could’ve walked in his igloo right then, Sokka was not expecting to see Bato.

It wasn’t that Bato wasn’t a great mentor to him, or that he didn’t care, it was just that Sokka had been such a gigantic jerk to him earlier, it didn’t make sense that he would show up. Worried that he might be there to demand an apology, Sokka gripped his utensil in his hand, bowing his head to stare back down at the words on the page in front of him.

“Everything all right, Sokka?” Though Bato’s voice was calm, Sokka didn’t look up. His gaze barely flickered to his own bandaged leg before he shifted to resume his writing. “It’s okay to be frustrated, you know. Your dad and I aren’t going to hold that against you.”

“I’m not frustrated,” said Sokka, despite the fact that his fingers were already resuming their shaking. It was pathetic. He couldn’t even write in straight line. “It’s just— I don’t want to talk about it, and I know you’re really mad at me so just go, okay? Leave me alone.”

“Here.” Bato only shifted to sit more comfortably, reaching out to squeeze Sokka’s hand and adjust the positioning of the tool within it. “You’re holding it at the wrong angle. Just be gentle with it. Slow, precise movements are better than quick and sloppy ones. It’ll help your hand remember the right way to do it.”

Sokka hated how obvious his struggling must’ve been for Bato to physically shift the way he was holding his hand like that. Admittedly, it did start to help when he slowed down and focused on his grip, but that didn’t fix everything. He wasn’t magically able to spell better or draw the letters the right way and having Bato stare at his movements made it even harder to mess up without wanting to stab himself.

He opened his hands suddenly, averting his gaze when Bato’s turned to concern. If Sokka wanted to stop trying, he was allowed to stop trying. He was allowed to hate himself and be frustrated because everyone else was doing well and recovering and he couldn’t even stand up. He couldn’t even read because he couldn’t focus on the words and he couldn’t even write because he’d always been incompetent at it for no good reason.

“Don’t give up.” One of the things that annoyed Sokka the most was the fact that Bato was generally quiet or abrasive. That Sokka was one of the few people he had infinitely too much patience with. “Just pick it back up and try again. I know it’s hard but you’re a tough kid. You can do it.”

“It’s not hard, I’m just stupid.” He was _fifteen_ and he still couldn’t write. Katara was doing better than him when she was seven. “Just leave me alone already. I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t want it.”

“Sokka—”

“ _No_. Just stop. I don’t want help, I just want to be alone.”

“I know, but you—”

“Leave me, _alone_. I know I’m pathetic but I’m not a baby, okay? You don’t have to watch over me like I’m— _agh!_ ”

One moment, Sokka was angry and backing away, and the next, he was trying his damnedest not to sob into the hands that covered his face. Trying to get away was an instinctive movement, and as such, Sokka didn’t stop to consider the fact that his leg was basically shattered from his shin through his thigh. The movement was too harsh, too sudden, and the pain that shot through his leg was sharp, painful, _burning_.

Bato didn’t say anything immediately, just shifting to wrap an arm around Sokka’s shoulders and taking long, deep breaths with him. At first, Sokka resisted, but then he sank into the embrace, leaning into Bato’s grasp. The quiet whispers of reassurance helped to ground him, to stop the shaking even if he couldn’t stop the pain, and it made it easier to come out of it. Sokka pushed his hands over his eyes, letting out another deep exhale as he brushed the tears against his pantleg.

“Sorry,” mumbled Sokka, his words shaking less with each breath. “You were right, I’m just— I’m frustrated. I’m sick of this. Everyone else is rebuilding and moving on and I can’t move on because I can’t— I can’t _move_. And I thought I could just distract myself with something else but it’s not— other people learn how to do this when they’re tiny and I just— I don’t understand why it’s so hard for me.”

“I know.” Bato didn’t move his arm, but he let his gaze drift down to Sokka’s outstretched, bandaged, broken leg. It hurt a stupid amount. “After I got burned, it hurt to do everything. Couldn’t stop thinking about it, even when I tried. How it happened, how it hurt, how I was left behind because I wasn’t strong enough to go on… you just have to remind yourself that it’s temporary. You’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

“But what if I’m not? They told me the break is so severe, I might end up with permanent damage or chronic pain or something and I don’t— what am I going to do? If I can’t stand right, I’m useless. I can’t write, I can _barely_ focus long enough to read, I— I won’t be good for _anything_.”

“That’s not true. You’re an incredibly gifted strategist, Sokka. Beyond that, you’re— hey. Breathe.” Sokka didn’t know how Bato could tell that a fresh wave of pain shot through his leg, but he did. He offered his hand and Sokka took it hesitantly, squeezing the daylights out of it to distract from his broken bones. “When I was recovering, I could barely do anything with my injured arm. Had to completely relearn my fine motor skills. That included writing.”

“Are you even left-handed?”

“Doesn’t matter, it was an exercise. Maybe your hand doesn’t want to listen to what you’re trying to do, or your mind can’t even make the connection between your fingers and the page, but you just have to keep trying. You’ll learn. I’m still not as good at using that hand as I was once, but I’m working on it. Every day. You should try practicing with me sometime. It might help.”

“What, uh, what would we do?” asked Sokka hesitantly. Though the question came out slowly, his next words fell out in such a tumble that Bato didn’t even get a chance to answer. “Not that it really matters much, I guess, I’m just really, really bad at this for some reason and I’ve tried it a lot, but nothing helps, and I can’t even write at a good angle because it hurts too much to move my leg out of the way and I—”

“That’s all right. You don’t have to move anything. It’s all about compensating. Here, get your paper set up. I’m going to go grab a few pillows for your leg and then I’ll show you how it works.”

Sokka almost declined the offer, both because he didn’t want the help for his leg and because he didn’t want the help for his writing, but he resisted. Bato didn’t look down on him for the way he felt about what was happening. Obviously, he understood what it was like to suffer such a severe injury, but he didn’t have to be so kind about Sokka’s struggles with writing. He didn’t have to offer to help, but he did.

When Bato returned, Sokka didn’t resist the pillows nor ask him to stop when Bato shifted his leg for him. He needed a minute to stop and relax before they were able to do anything after that, to get over how badly the movement caused his leg to throb, but he didn’t want to quit then either. Sokka reached back down for his utensil, staring down at the paper in front of him.

“You ready?” Bato nudged his shoulder gently, but Sokka didn’t respond. “It’s all right if you’re not. We don’t have to do this today.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to try. I want to be better.”

“You don’t have to be better. You’re already trying your best.”

In a weird sort of way, Sokka actually believed him.


	61. Can't Trust Myself - [Katara & Sokka, Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, established relationship, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** I had this idea based on how the gaang often make fun of how much Sokka eats-it doesn’t bother him much when his friends do it but when a stranger comments on how much he eats then it’s Not Okay. Let’s say he was at a gala or party and some Fire nation a-hole comments on how much he’s eating and it gets to his head and afterwards he just,,,stops eating. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/638809705650814976/alright-im-gonna-try-sending-it-in-again-and-i)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,414

“You going to eat that table too?”

Sokka froze. Behind him, a group of young Fire Nation nobles were snickering and nudging each other like one of them made a brilliant comment, a clever joke, but it wasn’t. It struck Sokka in one of his most vulnerable spots, where intentionally or not, and his heart raced faster as he squeezed the pastry in his hand. He wasn’t eating that much. He indulged more than he should’ve because he was unreasonably anxious in the crowd of strangers and partygoers, but he wasn’t eating that much. He didn’t do that anymore.

At least, not until he heard the same nobles laughing at him as they walked away and stuffed his face with twice what he’d already eaten.

He felt sick by the time he stopped, and he was sick minutes after he left the room. Sokka let out a deep breath, leaning back against the wall and dragging his hands through his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the world to stop spinning and his stomach to cease its churning. It was his fault. He deserved the pain. He promised himself he would never do that again and he cracked. One stupid sentence drilled into his head and stole every trace of his progress.

“Sokka? Is that you?” He wasn’t sure whether it was the stinging in his throat or his eyes that stopped him from responding to Katara’s question. She must’ve heard his shaking breaths, however, because she seemed to assume she was right. “Too many snacks?”

It didn’t hurt to hear the words from Katara because he knew she was joking but it hurt that it was the truth. That one meaningless little comment broke him and sent him flying back to coping mechanisms he’d tried everything to kick. Sokka dragged his hands down over his eyes, allowing his palms to catch whatever moisture managed to leak out of them.

“Yeah,” Sokka mumbled, “I guess.”

“Okay.” She knew. She knew what he did, and she was disappointed in him. Embarrassed that he’d gone back to his old ways. “I’ll be with Aang if you need anything, all right? Just don’t eat any more.”

Logically, Sokka understood that she meant it as two words. She meant it as ‘don’t eat more pastries’ not ‘don’t eat anything’, but that wasn’t how his brain wanted to see it. He was stuck on the idea of moving away from food at all. It was the right solution, wasn’t it? He couldn’t trust himself to be around anything without cracking— _binging_ —so he needed to stop. If he couldn’t eat responsibly, he didn’t need to eat at all.

So, from that night on, Sokka didn’t eat. He kept himself away from the snacks table that evening, he slept through breakfast the next day, and he found clever excuses to get out of eating with any of his friends. Once or twice, he found himself wanting to have something, but he barely got halfway to the kitchens before the bad thoughts crept back in and he found himself backing away again.

At a certain point, it did start to be a lot. Sokka felt weirdly dizzy all the time and regardless of the fact they were staying in the Fire Nation and it was hot as anything, he couldn’t stop shivering. More often than not, he found himself relying on the wall to keep from falling down and drifted off in the weirdest places. Sokka didn’t even know when he was sleeping anymore, but he knew he felt lighter already and that was what he cared about. To be small enough that his muscles became so defined, no one could ever think he was overeating again.

By the time his last scheduled day in the Fire Nation rolled around, Sokka hadn’t eaten in an entire week. He hadn’t even been around food for more than a few minutes, forcing himself to get away as fast as he could. It didn’t matter if his body wanted to eat, he couldn’t. He didn’t trust himself. The words wouldn’t stop playing in his mind, the laughing echoing with his every thought, and he knew he couldn’t eat without going too far.

“Sokka?” The words barely registered, everything too fuzzy to fully process. The hand on his shoulder was a little more tangible, but it only made him want to squeeze his eyes shut tighter. “Sokka, wake up. Are you okay? What happened?”

He slowly blinked his eyes open, stopping when he realized he was lying on the floor. His head was resting on a coat, his hair falling across his eyes. Sokka remembered that he was packing, but he didn’t remember anything after that. The only explanation was that he’d gotten started, fallen asleep, and then Katara found him when he didn’t show up on time to leave. Sokka started to sit up but stopped when another hand eased him back down.

“Stop, it’s okay.” Zuko’s hand shifted up to his cheek, gently pulling Sokka’s hair back behind his ear and gently stroking him with his thumb. “Just stay where you are, all right? We think you fell, and we don’t know if you hit your head or anything, so you have to stay still. Do you remember what happened?”

“Mm. Tired.” Sokka turned into Zuko’s hand, squeezing his eyes shut tighter when Katara reached a hand around his neck, most likely to feel for bruising. “Sorry. Are we late? Don’t remember falling down.”

“It’s fine, we’re not on a tight schedule. Does this hurt?” Katara shifted her hands around again, and Sokka quietly let her know it didn’t ache. “Are you sure? You’re shaking really bad. You don’t remember _anything_ that happened?”

“Packing. Dizzy. Stomach hurts.”

“When was the last time you ate? What was it? Maybe you just had something bad.”

“Can’t be. Haven’t eaten since— since the mochi,” Sokka admitted quietly, his fingers wrapping around Zuko’s when their hands met. “Made myself sick.”

“Fuck.” Zuko’s hand squeezed Sokka’s tightly, his eyes widening in alarm. “Sokka, we haven’t had mochi since the— are you okay? Why haven’t you eaten anything? Never mind, we’ll talk about it later. You have to have—”

“No. No more food. Don’t trust myself.”

“Sokka, you can’t just not eat. You have to have something, or you’ll die.”

“Can’t. Can’t trust myself.”

“You don’t have to trust yourself.” Katara must’ve figured out what he was trying to say in his sick state because her tone was gentle, her fingers carefully tucking his hair back into place. “We’re here, okay? We’ll help you. We’ll make sure you don’t do anything bad.”

“No, ‘cause the mochi.” Sokka’s throat was burning, the world spinning too badly for him to get out any full sentences. He felt entirely ready to pass right out again, his head pounding badly. “People everywhere. Made fun of me. Still did it.”

“Sokka—”

“Don’t want to eat anymore. People notice. Mock me.”

“What if it’s just us?” Zuko gave Sokka’s hand another squeeze, his opposite fingers moving to brush an exhausted tear of Sokka’s cheek. “Just the three of us. You feel safe with us, right? Me and Katara? You know we won’t ever mock you for how much or how little you eat. We won’t even joke about it, okay? Can you do that? Please? Can you try?”

Sokka hesitated for a long several seconds before he managed to nod. The idea of eating anything at all bothered him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the laughter, about those voices, mocking him behind his back, joking that he’d either eat the table or become just as big as it. Sokka doubted they would’ve held their tongues if they knew. They’d probably just make fun of him for leaving to make himself sick afterward too.

“Okay.” Sokka gripped Zuko’s hand as tightly as he could, turning his gaze to look at his sister. “Just us? Promise?”

“Yeah, of course.” She was already standing up to go get the food but knelt back down to pull him into an embrace. It was a little awkward since he was still lying down, but it helped. It made him feel less ashamed. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay? Just the three of us. Nobody else is going to know. I promise.”

It was still hard to make himself eat after that, but he tried. He tried, and that was all they ever asked of him.


	62. Stay By Me - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** pre-relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff
> 
>  **prompt:** Zuko is living at the South Pole (the reason is irrelevant, choose your own headcannon) and he can always control his temperature. So he is always wearing his normal light-ass clothes. But suddenly there is a solar eclipse or some spirit world bullshitery and Zuko is left powerless. And very cold. So cold. And they are weeks away from the village for uh. Reasons. If only someone would cuddle him for warmth… [via [@that-obnoxious-roommate](https://that-obnoxious-roommate.tumblr.com/post/638228895000412160/tikmasjienszuko-im-so-coldsokka-shifting-to)]
> 
>  **word count:** 526

“Zuko? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He was not fine. His hands were shaking, his head was pounding, and he was pretty sure his face was more than just a little red, but he didn’t have to tell Zuko that. “Cold.”

“That coat not heavy enough?” asked Sokka. Zuko shook his head. The answer was obvious. He was wearing a coat, but it wasn’t heavy enough. Without his bending to make up the difference, he could barely even breathe. “Shit, it’s your bending, isn’t it? It’s not holding up in the dark.”

“I’m fine,” Zuko reiterated, squeezing his arms around his stomach. He could barely speak because every breath he took felt like he was swallowing the freezing ocean, but it didn’t mean he was dying. “We’ll be back to the campsite soon. Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I told you it was a bad idea to come on this hunting trip with me during polar night. I know you’re trying to be move involved since you’re here, but you have to think about— Zuko!”

The moment Zuko dropped to his knees, Sokka was there supporting him. He slid an arm under Zuko’s, gently pulling him up by the waist. For a moment, Sokka said nothing, just holding him close before continuing their stride through the snow. Zuko stumbled a lot, leaning into Sokka for support.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, barely reacting when Sokka’s fingers squeezed around his arm. “Not supposed to be in the cold like that when I can’t— body isn’t used to the cold. Not good for firebenders. Higher resting temperature.”

“It’s okay,” Sokka assured him quickly. He pulled Zuko in closer, leaning their heads together. Zuko didn’t know why his heart raced faster. “Just stay by me, all right? We’ll get you warmed up.”

They finally sat down a minute later, resting on the edge of the nearby water. Zuko almost thought that Sokka would just sit with him, give him a chance to rest, but he didn’t. The moment they were on the ground, Sokka nudged Zuko into his chest, passing off his scarf to wrap around Zuko’s neck.

It was still stupid cold out but Zuko felt weirdly warm there. He nuzzled into Sokka’s chest, returning the embrace he was wrapped in. Before, he might’ve thought it would be uncomfortable to hold Sokka that way, but it wasn’t. It felt natural, right, and it made him feel safe.

Sokka let out a deep breath, tucking his hat over Zuko’s head before he leaned back into him. He slid a hand on Zuko’s cheek, shifting to bring him in closer and giving his shoulders another squeeze. Zuko tried to breathe with him, knowing shallow breaths wouldn’t help him to get warm.

“Do you feel any better?” asked Sokka quietly, his warm breath tickling the tip of Zuko’s ear. He nodded, closing his eyes as he eased into Sokka’s grasp. “Okay. Tell me when you’re ready to try again. We’ll get you back to the fire soon.”

“Okay.”

Zuko might’ve been aching for the fire, but he waited a little extra long before he finally said anything. Sokka’s arms were too warm to leave.


	63. Sometimes It's the Smallest Decisions - [Hakoda & Sokka, Katara & Sokka]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** Sokka has migraines triggered by food. In the Southern Water Tribe, a lot of the food they get in is preserved with additives or heavily salted, like meats or nuts which are MAJOR trigger foods. Any meat that isn’t imported is probably seafood-another major trigger. Cue Sokka having to decide every day if he wants to be hungry or in a lot of pain. [via [@hicccup](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/375164523)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,428

Sokka stared at his food a little too long some days.

Nobody understood how big of a decision it was for him. They all knew he loved snacking and meat but none of them understood the pain that came from letting himself indulge. None of them understood the way their lighthearted jokes struck him, reminded him of the bad decisions he’d made and the consequences that would follow.

“Hey, you going to eat anything?”

He didn’t have an answer for his sister. He should’ve had an answer, but he didn’t. Sokka was still twisting his spoon around, staring down at the stew like he was deciding whether or not to poison himself. He kind of was, wasn’t he? Poisoning could mean only injury and eating definitely caused him pain.

“Yeah.” Sokka managed to nod, though his hand still tilted enough to pour the food right off his utensil. Katara gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t meet it. “Sorry.”

Sorry because eating was harder since they came home from the war. Sorry because he knew he needed to have something, but the migraines felt like a risk. Sorry because they were safe, and he couldn’t stop feeling like being sick put him in danger. Sorry because regardless of whether they were safe, he didn’t _want_ to make himself sick anymore.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Katara gently. Sokka only shrugged. He understood the way his decisions affected his mood and the people around him. “I understand. I just want to make sure you’re still eating enough. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

_But the hunger hurts less._

“I know. I’ll eat something.” Somehow, Sokka got himself to force down a few bites without another word. It tasted good, it _felt_ good, but his thoughts were locked on the consequences of it. He kept himself eating anyway. “Sorry for always being annoying about this.”

“You’re not being annoying. I told you, Sokka. I understand. You’re entirely justified.”

He didn’t feel like he was justified. Like it was okay when he snapped at his dad and apologized to him seventeen times. Like it was okay that he had some of his favorite food and spent the rest of the day lying on his stomach with a pillow over his head to block out all the light and the sounds. It was nothing. He had nothing. He had one bowl of stew and his head was fucking _pounding_.

The only way to describe it was to say that it felt like his brain was trying to break out of his skull. Sokka twisted his blanket when the pain got too intense, letting out a shaking breath and squeezing his eyes shut tight. He was supposed to be working on a project for his dad and all he could think about was the pounding, the buzzing, the _pain_. Sokka groaned as he shifted onto his side, gripping the blanket between his fingers.

“Hey, bud.” The fingers that pulled the hair behind his ear burned, but the hand that squeezed his shoulder made him feel safe. Sokka didn’t look up, but he shifted to hear better so his dad wouldn’t be muffled by the blankets. “You okay?”

“Mm.” Sokka started to nod but stopped when a pang shot through his head. It was too much movement that soon. “Migraine.”

Hakoda sighed, giving his shoulder another reassuring pat. He was disappointed. Sokka _knew_ he was disappointed. He probably came in to make sure the plans were finished or almost finished and Sokka barely even started. It was his fault. He _knew_ what would happen if he ate with Katara and he did it anyway.

“You want me to take care of this?” Hakoda’s question was innocent, an offer for help, but Sokka’s reaction was less than grateful. He shifted when his dad tried to smooth his hair again, burying his face in his pillows. “I’m not asking because I don’t think you can do it, I’m asking because I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I always hurt.” Sokka wasn’t fully aware of how sharp his tone sounded but he recognized the look on his dad’s face and realized he was going too far. He winced, reaching to bite on his thumbnail. “Sorry. I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to snap at you, it just— sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just want to help, all right? Let me help you. Please.”

Sokka didn’t respond for a long time, and when he finally made the choice to do it, he didn’t stay where he was. He sat up slowly, Hakoda quickly placing a hand on his bicep to help lift him up, then leaning his son against his shoulder. Sokka stared at the unfinished plans in front of them, a pang of guilt in his chest.

He stayed quiet while Hakoda looked at the minimal progress he’d made, resting against him, and taking deep breaths. Sokka’s head was still pounding, the buzzing in his mind stopping every coherent thought he could’ve contributed, but Hakoda didn’t say anything. He just held an arm around Sokka’s shoulders, mumbling to himself as he started on the project.

The one nice thing about being back home was that the temperature always helped. Sometimes, Sokka liked to just flop down in the snow when he was having a really bad day, but Katara usually dragged him out since she was worried he’d get too cold. He found that heat helped sometimes too, when he could rest his head on Zuko’s chest, but the cold always did better.

“You all right, bud?” asked Hakoda, his voice soft but sudden and unwelcome in the quiet air. “You haven’t said much in a while.”

“Fine.” Sokka didn’t realize until he heard the question that his eyes had drifted shut. He shifted against his dad’s shoulder, slowly blinking to look at the words in front of him. “Sorry I didn’t finish the project. Hurts.”

“I know. It’s okay.” He gently rubbed Sokka’s shoulder, pulling him in close. “No one blames you.”

“I blame me. I know what hurts me and I eat it anyway. My fault.”

A long moment passed where Hakoda didn’t say anything. He kept an arm around Sokka’s shoulders, his hand moving up and down reassuringly. Sokka knew that his dad was going to agree with him, that he was causing himself pain and making excuses for not getting his work done, and it wasn’t fair to everyone else.

“It’s not your fault.” Hakoda pulled a strand of hair behind Sokka’s ear, hesitating before he went on. He was quiet with each word, but they rung painfully in Sokka’s head, joining the pounding and the buzzing he couldn’t seem to shake. “I know it feels that way because you know when it’s going to hurt, but you can’t just go hungry either.”

“Sorry.” Sokka shoved the backs of his hands over his eyes, shaking his head for only a second before he winced and switched to chewing on his lip. “I just hate having to make that choice every day. Sometimes it _is_ easier not to eat anything.”

“Yeah. I know. But I also know there are things that don’t hurt as much, right? So, you don’t just skip eating, okay? You come talk to me or Katara or your Gran Gran and we’ll find you something better. You’re not in this alone.”

“Okay.” He sniffed, letting his eyes drift shut as he leaned into his dad’s chest. “Sorry I didn’t finish the project.”

“You’re all right.” Hakoda tussled his hair, holding him close. His heartbeat was steady, easy for Sokka to relax with. “Just breathe, okay? I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

Sokka didn’t say anything else. He didn’t fall asleep, his head pounding too hard and too painfully for him to drift off, but he was able to relax with his dad there. With his quiet breathing helping to ease Sokka’s migraine. He registered it when Katara came in with a fluffy ice pack too, and barely mumbled more than a thanks. Sokka was done for the day. Maybe there was more he could’ve done, but he was comfortable where he was at. He didn’t feel all better, the pounding didn’t leave, but he was content.

Maybe tomorrow he’d have to do the same thing. Maybe every day he had to struggle with the same decisions and the same pain. But he wasn’t alone, and though that didn’t stop his head from hurting, it made the emotional weight a little lighter to carry.


	64. Too Weak to Swim - [Sokka/Yue]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, emotional hurt/comfort, suicide attempt, self-hatred, self-harm
> 
>  **prompt:** when Sokka's just about to end things, he gets a vision of Yue, and she's like "Sokka, please keep fighting, I am still with you." Or something like that. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/639543803686092800/wait-what-if-when-sokka-s-just-about-to-end)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,417

“What am I doing wrong?”

There was already blood on his wrist, but it was barely more than a drop. Just a poke. An indication of where he’d almost done it and stopped for one last opportunity to scream at the world. It was stupid, sitting out on that pier, but it was the best place to see the moon and somehow, that always helped Sokka feel better. It wasn’t working that night.

“Everyone else is okay,” he whispered, tugging the knife down another notch. The red wasn’t scary, just warm. “Suki’s got the Kyoshi Warriors, Katara’s teaching the next generation of waterbenders, Zuko’s the Fire Lord, Aang’s got the whole world, Toph’s just doing whatever makes her happy, and I don’t— I don’t even _know_ what makes me happy.”

Oddly enough, he was more bothered by the way the color intruded on the water than the fact that it was his blood dripping out. The tear that escaped made him furious and he wiped it away before that could dare to mix with the other liquids too. He was pathetic. The whole world kept moving and somehow, he was still stuck in the past. Still making himself suffer.

“It’s been five years. Five _years_ since we ended the war and I still can’t do anything right. Every day I just wonder why they even keep me around. Why— Why I even keep trying. It just seems like it would be so much easier and better for everyone if I were gone. Then nobody would have to deal with me flaking on them because of my stupid leg or my shoulder flaring up.”

Those were the most obvious reasons to hate him but there were so many others too. The way he yelled at everyone when they asked whether he was okay. The way he refused to eat only to binge and get sick after they’d all gone to bed. The way his arms were always covered in ink because it was the only way to keep himself from painting his skin red. There were countless reasons to hate him. Too many signs to go through with it.

“I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you with all my problems.” Sokka’s voice cracked on every word and there was nothing he could do to stop it but press the knife down again. “I just felt like you were the only person I could really talk to. Probably because you don’t talk back so I don’t have to see your face when I say this stuff. I guess it doesn’t matter now, though. I’m done. Nobody ever has to deal with me again.”

Sokka squeezed his eyes shut, twisting the blade to press it fully against his skin. There was no reason to bother dragging it out. He prepared to push down, taking his last deep breath in the world, then stopped and opened his eyes when he felt something on his shoulder. Sokka turned immediately, terrified he’d see Katara, but froze when he realized he was staring at none other than the Moon Spirit herself.

“Please don’t do it, Sokka.” For some reason, seeing Yue’s face did nothing but cause another tear to escape from each eye. He could feel her hand sliding down his arm and if he hadn’t been kidnapped by Hei Bai himself, Sokka would’ve thought he’d utterly lost it. “I know that it hurts, but you’re strong. You can get through this. I know you can. Please keep fighting. For me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I died?” Sokka still hadn’t moved his knife, the blade pressing against his skin and drawing traces of blood at the deepest points. “I could just— I could just do it and then we could be together again and okay and I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t have to hurt _myself_ anymore because it would all be over.”

“You don’t think it would hurt everyone if you left?” The way she chose to say ‘left’ instead of ‘killed yourself’ made Sokka look up. She was always so kind. So positive. He was stealing that away from her in death too. “Sokka, you mean so much to so many people. If they woke up and you were gone, that would devastate so many people. Please. Just put it down.”

“I can’t. There isn’t another way.” He shoved his sleeve over his eyes, letting the knife leave his skin for only the briefest second. He had a plan. He was going to stick to that plan. “They won’t even know what happened to me. That’s why I’m here. Once I’m too weak to swim, I’ll just disappear. The current and the fish will take care of the rest. And everyone hates me anyway, so what does it matter?”

“Nobody hates you, Sokka.” An objectively false statement. The person she was speaking to right then hated him arguably more than anyone else ever would or even could. “Some nights, Katara comes out and she asks me to help you because she doesn’t know how to do it herself. Sometimes your dad and Bato talk all night because they’re so worried about you. No one hates you. They know you only shout because you’re struggling.”

“No, that’s not true.” Except it was because he knew Yue would never lie to him. She was the one person who would never lie to him. “How could— How could anyone ever like me? I— I’m— I hate myself _so much_ and I don’t understand how anyone couldn’t— I’m sorry but I just— I don’t believe you. I can’t. How could anyone ever look at me and think I’m someone worth caring about?”

“Because you’re kind.” Yue’s hand was oddly warm on his face, more ticklish than a solid, physical touch. “You’re funny. You’re smart. You’re _beautiful_. Sokka, I fell in love with you the first time we met. You didn’t have to do anything, you were just goofy and charming and that’s why people love you. Because you’re you and you’re amazing. I’m so sorry you can’t see that for yourself.”

That broke him. Sokka pushed his sleeve over his face again, trying to rid himself of the pathetic tears that washed down his face. He couldn’t stop the sniffling, the sobs that escaped alongside his choked breaths, and it made him feel even worse. He wasn’t amazing. Not to himself. But maybe Yue was telling the truth. Maybe there was one person who still thought he was worth it, even with all his flaws.

“I love you,” he blurted out, the words escaping in a mess of broken sobs.

“I love you too, Sokka.” Suddenly, Yue slid her hand to his face, gently kissing his cheek before she pulled back. “And I’m not the only one who does. Please don’t give up. I know it’s hard, but you have to keep fighting. I’m still here for you too. I always will be. I promise.”

Except right after she said the words, she left. Yue disappeared into the night sky, vanishing just as quickly as she’d appeared. The second he realized she was gone, Sokka lost the last shred of composure he had left. He let his head tilt down as the tears poured down his cheeks, his hand still holding the knife in place across his opposite arm. His sobs were louder than anything else, drowning out even his own thoughts. He was alone. Utterly and completely alone.

But then the arms wrapped around him.

Sokka heard them ask what happened but they must’ve seen it first. A fresh tsunami of tears rushed down his cheek as he let his hand open, the knife clattering and bouncing on the wood beneath him. Hakoda pulled him in so tight he thought he might end up suffocating anyway, Katara’s arm reaching around his back to help reassure him however she could.

He’d been awful to them. He was still being awful to them. It was the middle of the night and he woke them both up sobbing over what was probably a hallucination. He was sitting there all alone, covered in tears and blood, and they didn’t even care. They didn’t care how pathetic he was. They didn’t care how hard he sobbed into their arms or how many times he apologized for the things he’d done both that night and beyond. They just held him.

They held him, and no matter how far he fell, they refused to let him go.


	65. He Said Forever - [Sokka/Zuko, Katara & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** established relationship, grief, emotional hurt/comfort, implied/referenced suicide
> 
>  **prompt:** zuko at sokka’s funeral/finding out he’s dead. [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/639691235542614016/thinking-about-zuko-at-sokkas-funeralfinding-out)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,247

“Fire Lord Zuko?”

He knew from the second his servant knocked on the door that something was really wrong. Nobody was meant to disturb him in the center of a council meeting, especially not with a tone that sounded so sad, so afraid. Part of Zuko wished he hadn’t listened when she begged him to follow. At least if he’d done that, he would’ve had a few more minutes in his false reality.

“I found him in the snow.”

Every part of his body was begging his mind to be wrong. Katara was crying but it wasn’t because of that. She kept tripping over her words and stumbling through the story, but it wasn’t because of that. She stopped before she said the last sentence and in that long moment of silence, all Zuko could think to himself was that he had to be wrong.

“He relapsed and I was too late.”

Zuko’s heart dropped right out of his chest and he never did find it again. He fell to his knees, the burning tears coating his face as Katara yanked him into a hug much needed by them both. Most of that afternoon was a blur but the one thing he knew was that his face never changed. He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He just stared into space while the tears rolled down his empty cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

It was his fault. Zuko knew letting him go was a risk and he did it anyway. Sokka asked him to come to the tribe, asked him to take some time off, but Zuko thought whatever shit he was working on was too important to leave. The truth was that it wasn’t important at all and if he knew what would happen if he stayed, Zuko never would’ve left Sokka’s side again.

“Zuko.”

He stopped feeling anything after that first day. When Katara said those two words that made him wish he couldn’t hear. Zuko squeezed his hands around the grass beneath his fingers, tearing at the weeds and ripping up the dirt. His face was hot with tears, burning at his eyes and stealing the last bit of vision from his left. His fingers were raw and throbbed as he pulled the dirt, but he couldn’t stop to care.

“Zuko?”

At that point, he hadn’t even bathed in days. His hair wasn’t tied back but fell in tangles across his shoulders, sticking to the mixed drops on his face. His palms were burned from too many bad thoughts over the last several days and his fingers were bloodied from the amount he’d bit at his nails since the news came. It hurt, but it didn’t matter because it was his fault. He did it.

“ _Zuko_.”

The first few times he’d been too out of it to hear a thing but that time, he just didn’t care. Turning to attend to the voice felt unnecessary. What did it matter if he talked to anyone? He wasn’t coming back. He was never coming back. Zuko blinked and allowed another tear to fall as he slid himself forward, his feet dangling dangerously low over the edge of the cliff.

“Zuko, _stop_. Listen to me!”

He only turned to Katara when she shoved a hand on his chest, forcing him away from death. Despite the tears in her eyes, the terrified and pained look on her face, Zuko couldn’t convince himself to say a word. No words would make him come back, so no words were worth saying. He let Katara pull him away from the edge, but he gave her absolutely nothing else.

“This is not going to fix anything.” More than anything else, Katara sounded scared. Even the sadness in her tone was drowned out by the fear in her words, her eyes almost aggressively intense. “You need to take a deep breath, Zuko, okay? I know it hurts, believe me, I know, but this is not going to help anyone. This is not going to do anything but make it worse.”

“How the fuck can anything make it worse?!” Zuko wished his anger would’ve prevailed but he knew deep down that the sob which escaped his lips said more than anything else. “You think this is about me being sad but it’s _not_. He lied to me. He promised and he lied.”

“Zuko—”

“We were supposed to get married! He said— He said forever. He said forever and he wore my stupid hairpiece and I put on his stupid bracelet and I don’t understand why he lied. Why would he say forever if he didn’t mean it?”

“You know why.” Katara must’ve seen right through his coping mechanisms because she didn’t say a word about his inappropriate behavior. “We all knew why, and we tried, Zuko, we tried, but it just— you just have to remember that he’s doing better now. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and—”

“But you don’t know that!” Every outburst was accompanied by a fresh wave of tears and he couldn’t even bother to wipe them off his face. “How do you know it’s not just as bad? How do you— why won’t you just let me go? If you let me go then I can be with him again and I don’t— I don’t want to be here if he isn’t. I don’t want to do this without him.”

“That’s not what he would want. You know that. That was his thing. He never cared about himself, but he cared about us so much. He cared about _you_. I know it’s hard, I do, but you can’t do that. You have to keep trying, okay? We’re here for you. We’re all here and we’re not going anywhere.”

“No, you’re not. That’s what he said, and he didn’t— he left. He said forever and he left, and I don’t understand why.”

Apparently, he really was far less threatening than he wanted to appear because Katara didn’t stop to consider his anger at all. She only reached out, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him in for a much-needed embrace. Zuko barely returned the gesture, the tears falling harder than they had before as he turned his head away from the cliff he ached to dive from.

“It just hurts _so bad_.” Katara’s fingers squeezed him tighter and he knew she understood. “I just keep thinking about him and our wedding plans and wondering what I could’ve done differently and I— I just— I miss him so much.”

“I know.” Her voice was steadier than his but sounded just as ready to break. The tear on his shoulder didn’t belong to him. “I miss him too, and believe me, I never stop thinking about what I could’ve done differently either, but it’s done now. All we can do is move forward. We have to try.”

“I don’t want to move forward without him. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

Katara glanced off into the distance, to where everyone else had gathered to do that very thing, but all she did was nod. She didn’t pressure Zuko to move, she didn’t demand he go join, she just held him, and he held her too. Maybe they were all ready for their farewells, but the only thing Zuko wanted was five more minutes with his fiancé. Five more minutes in a world where everything was okay.

Five more minutes to tell Sokka he loved him and change the way things happened the day.


	66. Don't Let It Be Too Late - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, love confessions, hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 737

“Please don’t die.”

It was a stupid thing to say. If Zuko had any control whether or not he died, they wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place. They wouldn’t be sitting there in what was practically a pool of blood, sliding down Zuko’s chest and dripping off his hip and his thigh. Sokka didn’t dare to move the hand he pressed around the Fire Lord, the fabric tight in his hands.

“Oh, now you’re getting all sentimental?” Though his words seemed joking, Zuko’s face didn’t move. He held one hand on top of Sokka’s, but he knew it was just to keep the pressure in place. Just to keep himself from letting go. “Since when do you even like me?”

“Since you brought our trades.” It was only because Zuko was literally dying that Sokka’s tongue ran as quickly as it did. That his mind didn’t filter out the things he’d normally never say. “I mean, I thought you were a really good friend ever since the Boiling Rock, but when you came to see us, I…”

“Finally got over what I did to you guys? I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize you still hadn’t forgiven me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not about forgiving you.” Sokka inhaled sharply, pushing his hand around Zuko’s wound when his fingers tried to release the pressure. It didn’t matter if he was tired. He had to stay. “I— I thought you were my friend already. I forgave you years ago but I didn’t— I know it sounds so stupid but you looked so fucking pretty with the snow in your hair and I— I just—”

Zuko didn’t say anything, making it impossible to tell what he thought of the confession. All he did was turn into Sokka’s chest, giving his hand the smallest squeeze and letting his eyes blink slowly. Too slowly. Sokka wanted to push against his wound again just to keep him from falling asleep. To force him to keep hanging on when it looked like it might already be too late.

“It was Aang’s birthday for me,” whispered Zuko. At that point, Sokka was basically cradling him in his lap. He reached for the hair around Zuko’s cheek with his free hand, gently tucking it behind his ear. “We were messing around on the way home. Katara pulled out your hair tie and you stole mine. I think about that a lot.”

Somehow, Sokka’s lip started to curl upward despite the next tear to escape his eye. He remembered that day too, but it wasn’t until right then when the whole memory started to come together. When he realized that Zuko’s face was flushed bright pink for a reason and he hadn’t just been staring at Sokka because he was annoyed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

That was the part that hurt the most. If they hadn’t been ambushed, they might have never said anything at all. Sokka wasn’t exactly subtle in expressing it when he liked a girl, but it wasn’t the same with Zuko. It wasn’t the same when he started to care for someone who could hate him for the way he felt. When he was too scared to admit it even to himself.

“I’m sorry too,” Sokka told him, his voice cracking on the last word.

He waited for a response from Zuko, but he didn’t get one. He didn’t get anything and that made him too scared to look down. Sokka bit down on his lip, squeezing out the fresh wave of tears when he realized Zuko’s eyes had closed. He let in a wheezing breath, reaching up a hand to stroke Zuko’s cheek as he leaned down to kiss the top of his head. It was too late. After all that time, he was too late.

At some point, Toph finally returned with Katara, and by then, Sokka couldn’t breathe. He refused to let go of Zuko while his sister did what she could. While Toph hugged him and Katara assured him that Zuko’s heart was still beating. That she stabilized him and if they took him inside right then, got him some bandages and the proper care he needed, he might still be able to stay.

Sokka didn’t let go of his hand until he finally opened his eyes again. Until he knew they wouldn’t have to wait for each other again.


	67. Lightning Scars - [Iroh & Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** zuko-centric angst [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/640260435128483840/do-you-perhaps-plan-on-writing-any-zuko-centric)]
> 
>  **word count:** 893

“Fire Lord Zuko?”

He didn’t move nor make any indication that he’d heard the call or the opening door that accompanied it. He stayed where he was curled up between the bed and the table beside it, a blanket tucked around his shoulders and his hair spilling across his neck and sticky cheeks.

“I know you’re in here.” Zuko pulled the fabric tighter, as if the cocoon could somehow protect him from reality. “Are you okay?”

Whether it was a good thing or the absolute worst that the lightning happened to strike again right then was unclear. Zuko ducked his head back into his knees, his fingers gripping the blanket and his eyes squeezing shut tight. It was stupid. He’d trained for how many years, won how many battles, stood up to his sister _and_ his father, and he was afraid of a _storm_. Pathetic.

Because of the way he saw himself, Zuko chose to remain silent. Iroh chose to find him regardless and the moment he stepped around the bed, knelt down at his side. He accepted the embrace because it was a panic attack. He cried because it was a panic attack. It had nothing to do with him being weak, regardless of what his traumas wanted him to believe.

“Just take a deep breath.” It was hard to follow along with his uncle’s movements, to focus on his heartbeat instead of the pounding in his own head, but Zuko tried the best he could. “It’s okay. No one is judging you here.”

He was judging himself. It didn’t matter if he understood that he was abused and came out of it with potentially lifelong issues. It still felt weak. It still felt like he should be doing something different, trying harder, _anything_. He was the Fire Lord, he was nearly eighteen, and he was crying on his uncle’s shoulder. The people would want him taken away.

“I don’t like the lightning.” That wasn’t what he’d intended to say. He wanted to tell his uncle that he didn’t like himself, that he understood if Iroh left because he was pathetic, but the thunder stopped him and he tightened the embrace. “I know it’s just a storm, but I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

And that was the worst part of it all. That he knew his father couldn’t hurt him but he still avoided certain parts of the palace. That he knew people cared for him but his instinct was still to believe they didn’t. That he knew that a thunderstorm could never hurt him but his body reacted like he was trying to schedule a meeting with death.

“It’s all right. It’s just a panic attack.” Zuko knew that too. He understood that he had panic attacks. He’d been having them for a long time, going back all the way to the first week he left the Fire Nation. But that didn’t make them any easier to deal with. “Your mind has very bad associations with lightning. This is your body’s way of dealing with it.”

“It hurts.” His chest was tight, his lungs were burning, and the tears were becoming visible on the sleeve of his uncle’s shirt. Zuko did his best to take more breaths but getting control back over his lungs wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. “I— I just— I want to be strong. I don’t want to be like this.”

“Having a panic attack does not make you weak. It does not discredit everything else you’ve done. You _are_ strong, my nephew, but you were hurt. It’s okay to feel like this sometimes. It’s not weak, it’s not stupid, it’s not pathetic, it’s natural. It’s your body’s reaction to things that have scared you in the past. Everyone struggles with something like it. Just breathe.”

Zuko wanted to believe his uncle, but something in his mind still wouldn’t accept it. Other people weren’t the Fire Lord and weren’t meant to keep up a face their whole lives. Other people didn’t run away from meetings and hide out in their missing mother’s bedroom. Other people were better and stronger and everything he ever failed to be.

“I’m sorry.” He hated the way he apologized too. It was reflexive, ingrained in him since childhood, and no amount of therapy had been enough to fully end it yet. “I’m trying. It’s hard.”

“I know it’s hard.” Iroh must’ve understood that Zuko wasn’t just talking about breathing. That he was referring to his unrelenting disbelief too. “I’m not asking you to accept it right now, I just want you to know that you are loved. I will never think less of you for having bad days, Fire Lord Zuko. You mean so much more to me than that.”

All he could do in response was nod a little and hug his uncle tighter. It hurt too much to keep talking, but he knew that Iroh was right. Maybe he still couldn’t believe it that day, while his lungs were burning and his head wouldn’t cease its pounding, but he was getting better. He knew what he had to do, and every positive affirmation was another step closer to that.

“Thank you.”

Whether Iroh actually heard his mumbled words was questionable, but it didn’t matter. He tightened his grasp to hold Zuko closer, and that was all he really wanted.


	68. Buddy - [Sokka & His Polar Bear Dog]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** post-canon, sokka has chronic pain, angst, animals
> 
>  **prompt:** Sokka meeting his polar bear dog [via [@anonymous](https://tikmasjiens.tumblr.com/post/640972775388037120/please-write-a-fic-about-sokka-meeting-his-polar)]
> 
>  **word count:** 1,187

Sometimes Sokka just wanted to be alone.

It wasn’t because he didn’t like his family or his friends, nor because he wanted to escape his responsibilities. He just felt like he needed a break sometimes; a chance to get away from the overbearing care everyone had been providing for him since he broke his leg.

He got it. It basically shattered in a few places, it took a stupidly long time to heal, and he was _still_ doing physical therapy that was not going well thanks to the fact his shoulder was messed up too. But that didn’t mean that they all needed to baby him. That didn’t mean he was suddenly weak.

(Now, that didn’t necessarily mean that Sokka didn’t _feel_ like he was weak, like he was pathetic, like he was absolutely fucking useless and there was no point in keeping him around the tribe because he could barely even walk in the snow, but he wouldn’t say that to anyone.)

Sokka reached down to scoop up another handful of snow, his gaze never leaving the water in front of him. There was no point in trying to make a perfect sphere with the snow, but he had nothing else to do with his hands and not moving them was an embarrassingly large issue. So, he rolled it between his palms, and then he did it again. And again. And again.

Until his shoulder suddenly locked up out of nowhere and he dropped it right down into the water, sliding back when the freezing splash hit his ankles.

The pain moved from the middle of his shoulder blade around to the back and down his upper arm, and he wrapped his hand around his stomach to try and take the strain off it. It ached more than he could say. More than he ever wanted to admit to. It wasn’t more than he could take, but a tear rolled down his cheek anyway.

He was tired. That was the problem. Sozin’s Comet was months ago and everything still hurt. If he barely passed his limit, took one step too far, it sent a burning pain through his body he’d have to suffer with the rest of the day. Sokka squeezed his eyes shut and slid back, swinging his legs back away from the edge and dropping it into the snow before he flopped backward. Being numb felt better than the illusion of being stabbed.

Thankfully, they were in the darker time of the year so Sokka was able to close his eyes without having to throw an arm over his face. He let his left arm stretch out into the snow, ignoring when his body tried to give him signals that it was cold. He wanted to be cold. He wanted to be numb. He wanted to be—

“Hey, buddy.” Sokka only opened his eyes when he heard the footsteps in the snow beside him. It was far from his first time encountering a polar bear dog, and on a day where he was already emotionally done, Sokka was not the slightest bit bothered by its appearance; especially since it was only half-grown. “Sorry I’m in your space. Had to get away from the tribe.”

Given past experiences with other animals, there was no part of Sokka that expected the polar bear dog to stick around. He blinked when the creature tilted its head at him, its own eyes blinking a few times as Sokka moved to avoid its gaze. No need to threaten aggression.

“You can go now,” mumbled Sokka, dropping his right hand onto his stomach. He blew up toward his forehead, trying to rid himself of the stray hairs that escaped his wolftail in the wind. “I really don’t need an audience for my depression nap.”

Apparently, the polar bear dog either did not understand human speech or did not care, because it did nothing but remain still. Sokka groaned and closed his eyes again, sure that the creature wouldn’t hurt him. He did not anticipate it to start digging in the snow beside him.

“Cut it out!” The moment the snow started landing on his face, Sokka started sputtering, wiping his gloves over his face, and groaning when he realized all he’d done was add more snow. He was even dumber than he felt. “Fine, fine, okay. You want to nap next to me? You do that. I guess polar bear dogs can be depressed too.”

Again, the polar bear dog did _not_ understand what he said because there were three words that didn’t seem to register for it. Specifically, _next to me_. Sokka said it could sleep _next to him_ , not snuggle up close and put its nose right on his stomach. For a moment, Sokka almost said something, but he stopped himself. If nothing else, the animal was warm.

“All right there, buddy,” he started, draping an arm around the polar bear dog’s neck. “You can stay. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? With my leg and shoulder busted up, all I really have left is my persona. Don’t want Katara thinking I’ve gone soft. Or dad. He’s trying to keep me busy, but I don’t think it’s worth it. Rebuilding is mostly about manual labor and I can’t really move, so…”

When Appa licked him, Sokka always got grossed out by the sheer wetness of it. When Momo licked him, Sokka always got annoyed at how much it tickled. But when the polar bear dog licked him, brushed off his tear with its nose, all he did was laugh and wipe his face. He came out for a break and somehow, he ended up being comforted by a _polar bear dog_. It was _ridiculous_.

“Okay. I guess you can stay a bit longer.” The polar bear dog _did_ understand him. They both nuzzled in closer at the same time. “But it’s only because you’re warm and I’m pretty sure I’m starting to lose the feeling in my arm. I’m seriously not going soft.”

Except then the polar bear dog licked his chin again, tickled the tiny bit of exposed skin around his wrist with its fur, and he found himself laughing again. Sokka rolled his eyes and wiped off his face again, turning into the animal and letting out a breath.

“Maybe I’m a _little_ soft,” he whispered, his breaths swirling in the air, “but it’s not because of you, okay? I— I’ve always been soft. I just don’t like people knowing about it. That’s why I came out here. It’s easier if no one sees.”

That was true. Normally, when he tried to take a nap at home, he’d be woken up by someone concerned and he’d have to claim he stayed up late working, not that his body was depressed and aching for more rest. But then, all he had to was close his eyes and listen to the polar bear dog’s breaths. They were heavy. They were grounding. They were calm.

“Thanks for sitting with me. I think I really needed to talk to someone today.”

He didn’t bother cleaning his face off the third time.


	69. Sick of Seeing Him - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** angst, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 1,090

It wasn’t until he was actually standing in front of the mirror, a knife in one hand, when Zuko started to question his decisions.

He stared at himself for a long time. He held one hand over his left eye, dragged a finger down his jawline, and twisted his hair around in endless circles. It was meant to be special, a symbol of status, but at that moment, it was nothing more than a mess of anxious tangles and dust. A shadow of what it was meant to be.

Zuko squeezed his fingers around the blade of the knife at the same time the newest tears rolled out of his eyes. He let out a shaking breath, lifting his left arm up. The sharp edge of the blade pointed directly at the inside of his wrist, following along when he pushed his hand back through his messy hair.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the pins you wanted, but your uncle said he would— Zuko?” The second he heard Sokka’s voice, Zuko dropped his hands down, not paying attention to where or how close together they landed. “Zuko, babe, are you okay? What the fuck are you doing with that knife?”

“I—” Even when Sokka was standing beside him, pulling the knife from his hand, it was too hard to answer. They were in Ba Sing Se for a _vacation_ , not for him to be standing in an apartment having a panic attack for no good reason. “I want to cut my hair.”

“What? You haven’t cut your hair in like, six years.”

Because he used to love it. There was a time when Zuko prided himself on his locks, clung to them like they were the one thing that made him beautiful, but not anymore. All they did now was make it worse. He nodded slowly, another tear sliding down his cheek. He was losing the courage to go through with it.

“I don’t like it anymore,” Zuko mumbled, reaching to take the knife back from Sokka and shifting his gaze to the mirror. His hair was a problem he could fix, but what he really wanted was a different jaw. A different face. “I just want it to be shorter.”

“Tired of it getting in the way all the time?” Sokka’s tone was entirely playful, a hint of concern coming through in his tone.

“Tired of looking in the mirror and seeing my father.”

That was why he asked Sokka to find the pins in the first place. He needed something more than a hair tie to pull it away from his face, to get it away so he couldn’t have to see it anymore. Zuko didn’t resist when Sokka pulled him into a hug, setting the knife on the table in front of him and leaning into his husband’s shoulder.

“You don’t look like him,” whispered Sokka, leaning his cheek against the side of Zuko’s head. “I’m not just saying that, okay? You don’t.”

“I do. Every day I look more like him.” Which was why he loved his growing hair when he was eighteen. It wasn’t the same at twenty-nine. “I’m not looking for it, I just see myself in the mirror and my gut reaction is that it’s _him_. My hair just makes it even more obvious, you know? I just— I can’t do it anymore.”

“Okay.” Slowly, Sokka pulled back, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s forehead, and smoothing out his tangled hair. “We’ll see what we can do, all right? Take your shirt off.”

Zuko blinked. “I don’t think _that_ is going to help.”

“No, it is. I promise. Just take your shirt off. I’ll be right back.”

Though he was more than a little confused and had no idea what Sokka was up to, Zuko did as he was told and discarded his casual red shirt on the table beside his knife. Within a minute, Sokka came back, something else folded in his hands. He passed it over to Zuko before asking him to put it on and the second Zuko started to tie it in the front, Sokka attacked his hair.

At first, all he did was comb it out which took significantly longer than usual. Once that was finished, Zuko tried to offer him the knife, but Sokka refused it and ended up grabbing two hair ties instead. Zuko recognized that his fingers were following a similar pattern to the braids he often wove into their hair, but it was different somehow.

“All right.” Sokka finally pulled his tongue back inside his mouth, wrapping the tie around Zuko’s hair one more time. He tied a quick little braid with the last of the stray hairs beside Zuko’s cheek, smiling to himself when he finished. “Okay, try looking now. Zuko, come on. You can do it. Just look.”

Zuko hesitated for the longest time before he finally nodded and turned back around. His hair was pulled back entirely differently, stuck in a braided bun on the back of his head, and his shirt was one of Sokka’s; faded blue and made of a material that was entirely foreign to Zuko’s lighter closet. He blinked, tracing the edge of his scar, and playing with the braid in front of his ear.

“Is that any better?” asked Sokka nervously. Zuko didn’t answer, unable to pull his eyes off himself. “I know I can’t do anything about your genes but like this you kind of look like… less Fire Nation-y? And since your dad pretty much hated everywhere else, I figure he never would’ve—”

Sokka didn’t get the chance to finish speaking, cut off by Zuko turning back and throwing his arms around his neck. The moment their lips met, Sokka pulled back a little, but after a soft breath, he eased back into it and slid his own hands around Zuko’s waist. He kissed Zuko’s temple when they pulled apart, prompting Zuko lowered his arms to hold him closer.

“So… that’s a yes?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Zuko nodded against his shoulder, allowing himself a second to sink into the soft moment before he messed it up with his jokes. “But did you really have to give me the lowest cut shirt you own?”

“Actually, yes.” The sound of Sokka’s laughter was more beautiful than anything else in the world. “I believe I picked that one very deliberately.”

“Because my father would never wear it?”

“Because I knew you would look really hot in it.”

Zuko only rolled his eyes and kissed his husband again.


	70. Make It Go Away - [Sokka/Zuko]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **story tags:** established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
> 
>  **prompt:** N/A
> 
>  **word count:** 729

“How do you make it go away?”

Zuko blinked, furrowing his brow in concern as he edged closer to the balcony Sokka was leaning over. His back was turned but it was clear his fingers were clinging to the railing, his head slightly bowed and his breaths uneven. Carefully, Zuko approached his boyfriend, but didn’t make a move to touch him.

“Make what go away?” asked Zuko quietly, leaning on the surface beside him.

“That feeling that nothing you do is ever going to be good enough.” Sokka’s voice was firm, even with the emotion lining it. It was painful to listen to, the tear slipping down his face only making it worse. “That everything going wrong is your fault. That nothing is even really worth trying because you know you’re just going to fuck it up anyway.”

Of course, that was basically the hardest question that Sokka ever could’ve possibly asked and so, despite how badly he wanted to, Zuko had no answer. He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut quickly, shaking his head, and reaching out to place his hand on top of Sokka’s. He barely reacted, only squeezing his eyes shut and allowing more moisture to escape.

“I think I’m probably the last person on the planet you should be asking that question.” Though he tried to say it with humor, the attempt backfired and Sokka only nodded, the expression on his face twisting to that of almost guilt. “Listen, Sokka, I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if you can. But what I do know is what it feels like, okay? I understand, and I want to help you.”

“It’s just hard, you know? I can’t—” Sokka inhaled sharply, blinking several times as he flipped his hand over to hold Zuko’s back. “Sometimes I come out here and I can barely even look at the moon because it feels like it was me. Like it was my fault that she died. And I guess it just feels like I— like I couldn’t protect her, and I couldn’t protect Suki, and one of these days, something is going to happen, and I’m not going to be able to protect you.”

“You don’t have to protect me. I’m not your responsibility.” Almost immediately, Sokka started to open his mouth again, obviously intending to argue, but Zuko cut him off before he could. “Sokka, I mean it. I am your _boyfriend_ , not your child. We look out for each other, yeah, but you are not solely responsible for me. You’re not responsible for me at all.”

“But that’s the problem. I _know_ that. I _know_ that everything in my mind is stupid and wrong and I just don’t— I don’t know how to make it shut up. Some days I don’t want to even be around myself but it’s not like I can just get up and walk away, so I just— I just bury myself in books and stories and I try to make it shut up but I don’t know how. I don’t— I can’t do it. I don’t know how to do it.”

The words hit too close to home. Zuko reached out to pull Sokka into a hug, gently resting a hand on the back of his head and pulling him in close when he nuzzled against Zuko’s shoulder. Sokka was clearly shaking, clearly upset by something he hadn’t yet revealed, but Zuko didn’t feel like it was the right time to try and pull it out of him.

“I think that’s what we both have to learn to accept, Sokka.” Zuko took a deep breath, hesitating before he went on. “It’s not about learning to stop the voice in your head, it’s about learning to make friends with it. My uncle always said that your mind isn’t evil, it’s shaped by its experiences. We both have bad experiences and we both have fucked-up voices in our head but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us. It just means we need time. Okay? Sokka? Can you come back to bed with me?”

Sokka took a moment to nod, but he did it. He said nothing else, but his grip around Zuko’s hand was tight as they walked across the room. It was shaking, intense, loving, and that was all Zuko needed to understand how he felt.


End file.
